


learn from the times that we were cursed

by bravestyles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Curses, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pregnancy, Supernatural Elements, Vampires, Violence, Werewolf!Harry, Werewolves, Witch!Louis, Witches, talk of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:21:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 78,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29015031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravestyles/pseuds/bravestyles
Summary: Battling against a curse, Harry and his pack of werewolves are only human once a month on every full moon. With the use of his magic, Louis does his best to keep them safe until he can figure out a way to break the curse. In the meantime, he and Harry try to make it work between them.witch!louis werewolf!harry
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 90
Kudos: 153





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> title: candles - daughter
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy this one! it's different from my usual works, but still angsty!
> 
> ** the curse from this is inspired by the curse in the originals, i love that show so much and have watched it like 4 times lol **

-

The little cabin out on Windermere lake might as well have been considered as hand-crafted by Louis as one of Harry’s wooden carvings.

It began as a simple oak cabin with overgrown grass and a handful of trees blocking the view of the lake from the house. The inside was just as dusty and abandoned; it was decorated with dark mahogany floors and dressers, knitted blankets thrown over the creaky headboard and on the back of a stained couch. It was beautiful, it had just been abandoned, and it showed. Louis’ done some digging since moving in, and he’s read enough of the diary written by a lonely man by the name of Walter Greene’s to safely assume that nobody has lived in this cabin since he wrote his last entry in 2004. 

_I have to go find Audrey. She’s been alone far too long. Since Ma died, she hasn’t known peace. If I come back, I have failed. If I don’t, know that I have found my way back to Audrey._

Louis read all fourteen of that man’s diaries as he sat on the stained couch night after night once he ran out of brain-power to read any more spellbooks. He sat there in the cold, night after night, reading a stranger’s journal because it was the only thing to distract him from what was his own reality. 

In the beginning, the _very_ beginning, the cabin didn’t have any heat and Louis hadn’t made the time to drive out to a store and buy space heaters. It wasn’t winter, fortunately for Louis. It was May, and it only got cold at night. Louis could have just done a spell to warm the room or start a fire, and Harry knew that, too, but he laid in that creaky bed with him every night anyway, curled around him to be the heat Louis needed. 

Since time is the only thing Louis has -- not answers or solutions or any fucking ideas at all, just time and a lot of it -- Louis’ slowly made this place into something out of a fairytale. The dust was wiped away, the furniture was replaced with matching old-timey pieces, the heat was fixed. He did a spell that relocated the trees blocking the lake to be a part of that forest surrounding the cabin instead, and he built a small dock to overlook the water. Ivy and Jasmine climb the walls of the house, creeping up and over the wood. He has fixed up the stone pathway in the front of the porch as if he ever gets any visitors, and has lined the exterior of the house in fairy lights. His favorite part of the house is the cabinet showcasing all of the little wooden carvings Harry has made for him over the years; foxes and trees and bears and doves. It’s something Harry’s done since he was a kid, and he does it whenever he’s thinking or watching a show or listening to music. Needless to say, he’s carved plenty for Louis over the years, and Louis loves every single one of them. It’s why he made sure to carefully pack them before they left for the cabin. 

It’s a nice house, and Louis is very proud of what he’s done with the place, but it’s not home. Nobody can see it, first of all. Louis has the property and the pack completely cloaked. A spell keeps them hidden; if anyone dares to get close, all they see is that old, abandoned cabin. Louis doesn’t let anyone get close, though. If people in the lake get too close, he twists his hand and causes an unbeatable tide that carries them in a different direction. If hikers or adventurers step in a five-mile radius, there’s a warning howl from Harry and Louis takes care of it. If there are hunters, there are a lot more howls than just from Harry and -- well. Louis isn’t the one who takes care of those. Just because the hunters can’t see the pack doesn’t mean the pack can’t see them. They don’t _kill_ them, just. . . Let’s just say there hasn’t been hunters around here in a while. 

It can’t be home, not when Harry isn’t here to share it with him. 

Technically, Harry’s here. He’s only a few yards away most of the time, sitting somewhere at the edge of the forest or by the water. If he’s not watching Louis -- because that’s what he’s doing when he’s close by like that -- he’s still not too far. The forest is huge, but two knocks on the side of the door is their signal for Harry to come. Three means everyone. But there’s rarely any instance in which Louis needs Harry to come to the cabin nowadays. There’s nothing Harry or any of them can do in their wolf form, except, you know. Be wolves. And when Harry turns back into human on that full moon and comes back to him, he always apologizes profusely for never being closer, but it’s too hard on him to be. On both of them. Louis’ a human every day of the month and Harry is only human on one. That complicates things. 

There are nights where Louis pulls himself away from the spellbooks to sit out on the porch and get some fresh air, and he’ll find Harry’s bright green eyes somewhere in the dark. Sometimes, if Louis’ lucky, Harry will come and sit by him, but that is a rare occasion. There are other times where Louis is doing the dishes and he glances up to see Harry watching him from a distance, or he’ll be getting ready for bed and see Harry’s glowing eyes. It’s not creepy, it’s careful. Harry’s wildly protective over Louis, and they’re both incredibly vulnerable right now due to the fact that they aren’t even the same fucking _species_ most nights. 

Harry’s a werewolf; one of his strongest instincts is to protect what’s his. Louis is his. Harry would never say that out loud, because he’s conscious about how that could be construed and he doesn’t want to objectify Louis. Harry didn’t have to say it out loud for Louis to get that message, though. Years ago, when things were normal, Harry loved him fiercely. He was clingy and cuddly and _protective._ So, so protective. Not in a possessive way, just -- when Louis was sick and his spells were taking a while to help, Harry would be worried beyond belief. When a group of stupid teenagers tried robbing Louis’ store and Harry caught wind of it, he nearly had a heart attack over it. Louis’ fights became Harry’s. Once they moved in together, every second Louis wasn’t at work and Harry wasn’t with his pack, Harry was constantly touching him. A hand on the hip, an ankle hooked over his, a shoulder against his; Harry was constantly reminding himself that Louis was right there. 

They were only fourteen months into their relationship when Harry had made it clear to Louis that he intended to have him as a mate for the rest of his life. The word _mate_ scared Louis momentarily, and he was thinking of all sorts of blood rituals and animal sacrifices before Harry laughed and explained that all the word meant is what marriage means to humans. 

“Well, you _are_ a human,” Louis said with a bright laugh. “You could’ve just said you wanted to marry me.”

“Half-human. And no, it’s -- different, Louis.” Harry was grinning, because he could never really take anything too seriously. “You’re going to be my mate _and_ my husband, and those are two different things. I mean, only if you want to be, obviously, but. . .”

Louis still didn’t get it, and he told Harry as much, so he explained further. 

“If I go and tell my pack that you’re my husband, they’ll laugh and ask when the bachelor’s party is. If I go and tell my pack that you’re my mate, they’ll stop jerking you around as often as they do and they’d give their life to protect you. _That’s_ the difference.”

Louis remembers being overwhelmed by that, but he pushed it aside because he thought it would never get to that. He was never supposed to _need_ their protection, just like they were never supposed to need Louis’. Wolves and vampires have always had their issues, sure, and witches always somehow got involved, but it was usually petty shit that would never require someone to _give their life_ for him. And then everything in London went to shit.

A twenty-three-year-old named Kelsey Abraham got fatally bit by a vampire three nights before they left town because she stopped a vampire from bleeding Louis dry as he obliviously locked up his shop. She still managed to kill that vampire for Louis -- _for_ Louis, she gave up her _life_ for _him_ \-- and Louis held her until she died. It still haunts Louis at night, her face. How much she must’ve cared about her pack to die over one someone’s lover. Even though Kelsey was the one who had died for him that night, she was doing it to uphold Harry’s orders to protect Louis. 

Harry is a hands-on, up-close type of lover, and now he just can’t be. It’s just how it is now. It’s how it’s been for the last two years, and Louis’ essentially been all by himself in a cabin that’s not home to deal with it on his own. 

-

For twenty-five years of Louis’ life, London was home. 

After he scraped through his last year of high school by the skin of his teeth because he was too busy prioritizing his spells over school, he went to uni and took an advanced course to get his degree in business. At the age of twenty, he opened up his shop in the middle of London -- and just because he used magic to get his shop doesn’t mean he didn’t earn it. He was plenty qualified and simply used a bit of magic to prove that. 

It’s not complicated, the witch-thing. He’s a witch, and so are his sisters. His mum used to be, but after going years without using her powers, they faded. She still taught Louis how to safely use his magic, though, and honestly, it’s the second best thing in his life after family. His sisters like magic, sure, but Louis -- he _loves_ it. It’s his _life_. And while he was almost-failing school, he was at home practicing spells and out tracking down authentic spellbooks and turning dust into daisies in the backyard. He harnessed his magic and his power steadily grew; the more you nurse your power, the more it nurses you back. He wasn’t the most powerful witch in the city by any stretch, but he reached a level of power that had the city’s covens looking at him in interest. 

Louis didn’t do those. _Covens_. It all felt a little bit cult-like. He had no interest in it, no matter how much interest they had in him. On a near-daily basis, a witch from some coven would come to his shop and give him a hard time about not wanting to join. It was like he was some star-footballer that all of the colleges wanted. 

He met Harry when he was twenty-one, and they got on right away. Well, not _right_ away. As soon as Harry and Gemma came into his shop, laughing loudly with hot coffees in hand, Louis could tell that they were wolves. He _swears_ he can sense those sorts of things, but his mum says it’s probably all in his head because she never could. But he was right about Harry and Gemma. 

Louis owned a shop that sold witchcraft-related stones and charms and astrology nonsense. The fake stuff, of course. Magic can’t get into the wrong hands. The only times he ever gave the things he sold any real magic was when he could tell the buyer really needed it. Even then, it was harmless. It was either putting some healing power into a stone of a skittish, quiet girl, or making rude customers find a bit of real magic in his products so they’d come back in search of more and find nothing. 

When Gemma came up to the counter with a purple amethyst stone in her hand, Louis was just going to ring her up and let her go on his way. But then Harry came up to the shop with a fist full of incense sticks and he had to know more. 

“You two believe in this stuff?” he asked as he scanned Gemma’s stone. He was looking at Harry more than anything, because surely a six-foot tall wolf with a wide grin coming into a witch’s shop was some sort of joke. 

Gemma shrugged, although the twinkle in her eye and the attitude in her smirk indicated that she thought she had the upper hand. “I don’t know, honestly. Do _you?_ ”

It was Louis’ turn to shrug as he rang up Harry’s stupid amount of incence. “Don’t know, love. If I were to believe in witches, I’d have to believe in other things as well, like ghosts and vampires and pesky little werewolves.”

Gemma scowled while Harry looked intrigued. His smile slipped into a flat line and he cocked his head at Louis. “And why would werewolves be the pesky ones, hmm? I would think that they’d be quite nice. Witches, though. . .” His grin was back. “I think witches would be the ones you had to look out for. They’re always the ones with the sharp tongues.”

Gemma gave her brother a harsh look before directing a polite laugh at Louis. “It’s a good thing none of that’s real, then.” She reached forward to grab their things that Louis hadn’t gotten around to bagging yet, but Harry wasn’t done talking. 

“Come on, Gems,” Harry said with a snort. “He’s not stupid.”

Louis grinned. “Not a lot of witches are. Werewolves, on the other hand. . .”

“Even smarter,” Harry finished, smiling like that’s actually what he thought Louis was going to say. And _shit,_ Louis thought. Harry had quite a nice smile, didn’t he? And quite a nice everything else, too. Gemma looked like she might have murdered the both of them beside him. 

“What’s your name?” Harry asked, and Louis had a knee-jerk response to that. 

“Come back another day and you’ll find out.”

It’s what he told all the customers that hit on him, mostly because ninety-nine percent of them didn’t actually come back and he didn’t want to deal with annoying flirting. With Harry, though. . . he really did want him to come back. 

He did the next day, by himself this time, and he asked, “So, what the hell even is incense, anyway?”

For all this shit Louis talked about wolves, he didn’t actually care very much about them. He didn’t think they were dirty or rowdy or dumb; he hadn’t met enough of them to formulate his own opinion on them. That’s not to say that he doesn’t absolutely love to pick on Harry for what he is, though. It never fails to make both of them grin. 

Another trait that wolves have that Louis likes picking on him for is their unwavering focus and motivation. Stubbornness, really. That trait is what brought Harry back to his shop for an entire week. 

After that first week, after Louis was fully, one-hundred percent okay with the fact that he was totally going to fall in love with this grinning idiot, he closed up shop in the middle of the day so they could fuck in the back, and, well. It worked out pretty well for a long time. 

For three whole years, Harry and Louis had an amazing time together. Every single day, they fell more and more in love. It was. . . God, Louis had never felt anything like it before, and he has yet to feel the same feeling again. The way he fell in love with Harry was quick, beautiful, all-consuming. The best goddamn decision he’s ever made. He’s never met someone so loyal and caring as Harry is. 

Those three years are what keeps Louis motivated now. He remembers every date, every laugh, every kiss. He remembers the way Harry’s pack relentlessly made Louis the butt of the joke until one day, suspiciously the day after Harry called Louis his mate, everyone was suddenly just as caring towards him as Harry was. He remembers every dinner he had with Harry’s mum and every time he called Gemma to chat shit about someone. Every time Harry did something outrageously generous for him, every important date he remembered, every wooden figure that Harry whittled for him, every song or movie or TV show Harry showed him -- Louis remembers it all. He has to, because there’s no promise that he’ll ever get any of that back. 

The war with the vampires that Harry’s pack got caught up in had nothing to with them. Harry’s pack was made up of _good_ people. They didn’t go out picking fights for no reason, so there was no reason for a fight to have been brought to them. But the vampires one day decided that the city wasn’t big enough for wolves and vampires to coincide in anymore. London, a huge city that hadn’t seen serious conflict between the two species in years, suddenly was just too small. 

The alpha of Harry’s pack, Ben, tried his best to reason with the vampires in charge of the city after two wolves were killed and strung up as an example. One of them was from Harry’s pack, the other was from somewhere else. The night Ben’s reasoning was dismissed, two more wolves were killed, both coming from Harry’s pack this time. There were only fifteen of them, and now they were down by three. Harry wouldn’t leave his side during that time, constantly scared that he was going to lose him to a war that neither of them wanted any part of. 

The fight would have continued to be bloody and messy but fair if a stupid _witch_ hadn’t gotten involved. A witch -- and a very powerful one at that -- decided to side with the vampires to run the wolves out of the city. 

They had to leave -- they _had_ to -- and they were planning on it. Louis was closing down his shop to move with them, and Harry was depressed and moody, but they were going to move. Not quick enough, apparently, because that witch decided they weren’t scampering off as fast as she wanted them to, and she cursed nearly all of the wolves of London, not just Harry’s pack, to stay wolves forever, only ever turning back to humans for a night on the full moon. 

That night was chaos. Louis was driving Harry and three others out of the city -- _they were leaving_ \-- when all the sudden, they started to turn. Harry looked terrified, and he held onto Louis’ hand as long as he could before his nails turned to claws. It was the dead of night, fortunately, so they could run away faster than Louis could legally drive. Even though they could’ve stayed in the car since they’re barely bigger than the average dog in their wolf form, they undoubtedly felt too vulnerable to do that. They ran and ran and ran as fast as they could to their destination, a small, isolated cabin on the lake, and when Louis met up with them by morning, there were some reports on the news about some drunk uni kids seeing wolves running the streets of London. It was never taken seriously, thankfully.

That first night was spent on the cabin’s porch, Harry’s head in his lap as he whined pitifully. 

Louis thought it was a threat. He thought it would last a night and then they’d change back and everything would be okay. But he didn’t get Harry back until the next full moon, and when he did, he and his entire pack were terrified. 

They had never been a wolf for that long. They didn’t know how to hunt that well and they weren’t used to being outside all the time. They were city wolves, not countryside ones. They had families who they had to abandon. They had _lives._

“You’ll figure it out, right?” Niall asked him, eyes wide. “You’re a witch. This was done by people like you, so you can undo it, right?”

Louis was just as exhausted and defeated as them. He had been living with wolves in his house for weeks, driving an hour out to the farmer’s market nearly every week to buy as much meat as he possibly could without looking suspicious. Listening to his partner cry in deep, painful whines and being unable to do anything other than pet him and tells him lies. 

“I’ve been reading every spellbook I can get my hands on,” he said. “I have talked to every witch in London that I know. I have talked to every vampire that wouldn’t rip my head off to try and figure out who cast the spell to get it undone. There’s _nothing_.”

The whole pack, all twelve of them left, looked devastated. 

“I can’t be like this forever,” Harry whispered, tears in his eyes. “This isn’t fair.”

And because Louis loves Harry with everything inside of him and had grown to love his pack just as much, he promised them that he’d figure it out. 

That was two years ago. 

-

Since the full moon is quite literally the only time that he gets to see Harry, it’s no small occasion. He cooks the entire day before, roasts and ribs and steak and salads and pasta. They’re a large bunch with big appetites; the least he can do is make sure they have all the comfort food they could possibly need. He also makes sure he has clothes hung up on the clothing line for everyone, since when they transform, they’re naked. Once everyone’s settled inside, they’ll watch a movie or play a board game or sit around the bonfire outside -- whatever they get up to, a lot of alcohol is involved as well as booming music. Everyone tries to make it as normal as possible, and even after all this time, they still somehow manage it. Not too many people have completely given up hope on Louis solving this problem. 

(It’s so frustrating, their fate resting on Louis. No witch wants to talk to him because he’s seen as a traitor, no wolf wants to talk to him because he’s a witch, and no vampire would ever let him breathe long enough to get a word in. If a spell can be cast, it can be broken -- that’s witchcraft 101. But somehow, Louis still doesn’t have an answer for them.)

The first full moon, everyone had been terrified and weak. It had been a rough month, since they were still adjusting. Everyone was sore and exhausted and crying. Harry quite literally did not leave his side the whole night, not even when he and Gemma called their mum to tell her that they were okay. He was the only one, the _only_ one, who didn’t beg Louis to find them a solution to this. 

“Is everyone doing okay?” Louis had asked them that night, about an hour before the sun came up. “Can I be doing something else for you, can I -- more food, more warmth, anything. Just tell me now, while you still can. I’ll do anything.”

Harry kissed the side of his jaw. “We know you’re trying, Lou.”

Others weren’t as welcoming. Ben was mean about it, but it was his job to be. Liam and Niall and Scott gave him the benefit of the doubt, along with a few of the others. Niall’s girlfriend Maggie sobbed as she asked him to call her mum and tell her everything was fine. Liam’s sisters and Niall’s brother asked him to do the same thing. Louis eventually got a proper internet reception out here, albeit a very crappy one, and only rarely does the pack take advantage of it to call their loved ones. It’s almost like they don’t want to know that the world is changing around them. 

Tonight is a full moon. He’s got twelve more hours until they all start coming out of the woods in their human form. Until then, with the bread pudding in the oven, Louis is sitting at the kitchen table with a stack of his ancestral spellbooks in front of him as he desperately searches through them. It’s pointless; he has read through all seven books he has, through and through, over and over and over again. All the sections that mention any sort of curse have been highlighted, but every option they’ve opened for him has been exhausted. He’s been trying to expand his collection of spellbooks, but nobody will fucking _talk_ to him, let alone hand over a book of powerful spells and folklore to him. The vampires have complete control of the city, and werewolves aren’t welcome. That ban extends to Louis, considering he supposedly betrayed his kind to side with the wolves. Nobody in London would want to help him, but if they did, they’d be too scared to. He’s screwed. _They’re_ screwed. 

And the bread pudding is done, according to the timer. 

-

It’s twenty past nine at night when a chorus of howls sound. It’s so loud -- so _close_ \-- that it makes Louis startle and drop a spoon he was holding to stir the stew one last time. He’s always on edge during these nights, for so many different reasons. But all those reasons have to come to a stop in his head right now, because that was the cry of victory outside that he just heard. 

He picks up the spoon, puts it in the sink, and heads outside. His chest feels tight with anticipation, and he sits on the porch steps as he waits. God, he’s about to see Harry. _His_ Harry, not a wolf with skin he can’t touch or a voice he can’t hear. It’s been about two weeks since Harry came and sat with him on the porch, anyway, so he hasn’t touched Harry in any capacity in a while. 

Ben’s the alpha, so he’s always the first one to emerge from the woods. He never fails to choose to put on the clothes that Louis had picked out for Harry. Louis doesn’t watch him; instead, he keeps on the lookout for Harry. He’s always the fourth or fifth to come out. Louis has no idea if there’s some natural order to how they do it, and he doesn’t really care. 

Ruth. Gemma. Scott. _Harry._

Louis stands as soon as he sees him, and even with the distance between them, he can see Harry grinning. They’re all happy to be back, but Harry’s smile is for _him_. Breathlessly, Louis watches Harry pull on some sweats and a flannel button-up. He lets out an airy laugh while he watches him take the time to button every single stupid button. Harry’s eyes are on him the whole time, gaze intense yet somehow how still soft. It’s captivating, and Louis is so distracted that he doesn’t notice that Ben has come up to him until he speaks. 

“You find anything?” 

And just like that, the magic is gone. 

Louis frowns as he tears his eyes away from Harry to look at Ben. He looks more and more stressed every time Louis sees him. They all do, but Louis and Ben are the ones in charge here. 

(Harry’s the one who had said that, maybe a year ago. After Ben snapped at Louis for having a tone with him, Harry said that Louis was just as in charge of them as Ben was, if not more. And that was a _thing,_ apparently, because it made the whole pack shift nervously. 

“He might have power over us,” Ben had said, voice low. He pointed at Harry as he spat, “But _you_ have none.”

“He’s _my_ mate,” Harry spat back just as strongly. It had been suffocatingly tense in the living room that night. Harry didn’t ever speak to Ben like that. Nobody did. 

“And you think that gives you some sort of power? You think that puts you above _me?_ ”

“Of course not,” Harry said quickly, sounding meek. His gaze finally averted from Ben’s and dropped to the floor. “I don’t like you snapping at him, is all. He’s trying his best, and he deserves some respect. That’s all I meant, Ben. There’s no issue here.”

But there’s been some sort of power imbalance stirring up ever since the curse was placed over them. Not between Harry and Ben, but between Harry and Liam. As humans, Liam was Ben’s right-hand man. But it turns out that Harry’s better at being a wolf than him; he’s a better hunter, a more attentive listener, stealthier. He’s more useful to Ben as a wolf than Liam, and the tension that has brought to the pack is somehow made evident each time Louis sees them altogether. There’s a division in a pack during a time that they need to be the closest.)

“No,” Louis whispers. Guilt tears through his gut as Ben swears and looks at his pack. “But I’m going to Ireland soon to try and talk to that wolf Niall knows, and -- ”

He’s interrupted by a happy, “This can wait five minutes, no?”

Louis turns to Harry, and just as quick as that crushing guilt came, relief and happiness replace it again. He’s almost close enough to touch, so Louis takes a few steps to close that gap and _does_ touch, and God, it’s -- words can’t even describe it. It’s everything. 

Harry’s body is warm and solid and _human_ when Louis wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him closer. His arms are strong around Louis’ waist, his laugh bright next to his ear. Before, Harry used to smell like vanilla and peppermint, and now, he smells strongly of trees and grass and the night sky. 

“How are you?” Harry whispers, his lips brushing against Louis’ ear as he speaks. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, yeah. You?”

“I’m okay. We’re all okay. And my mum?”

“She’s good, H. Really good.”

Harry pulls away, then, and Louis almost objects until Harry kisses him. It’s soft and sweet and far too controlled to be their first kiss in a month, but this is how they always do it. It puts them under the false impression that they don’t have to rush, that they’re okay if they take their time. It’s Harry taking control of this awful situation and not letting it take more of their lives than it has to. 

Around them, people are moving past them to get to the door. They’re all talking and laughing and shoving at each other. They’re hard to ignore, yet Louis doesn’t think about them. About anyone except Harry, who’s finally back with him. 

Harry pulls away just enough to say, “You’ve been driving us all crazy with how much cooking you’re doing. Can smell it, you know. I think Niall was getting genuinely pissed off at you.”

“Would’ve given him some if he came up to the cabin,” Louis tells him, only a little dreamily. Even though this is going to end far too soon, it still feels like it might last forever. 

When Harry’s a wolf, his eyes are sharp and bright. Like this, they’re soft and a bit duller, not as green. They’re staring into Louis’ lovingly and happily, not looking at him from a distance, desperate and frustrated. 

Overcome with sudden sorrow, Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck tighter and pulls him closer. He rests his cheek on Harry’s shoulder, making himself small against him. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers, and it causes guilt to claw through this heart. He wouldn’t have to miss him if he could just _fix_ this. Surely, it shouldn’t be that difficult. He closes his eyes and presses further against him. “I swear I’m trying. I’m going to Ireland, like I said, and -- ”

“It’s okay, Louis, it’s -- ”

“And I think I found one of the family members of another pack that was cursed,” Harry tries to interrupt again, but Louis continues, “but it’s so hard, everyone’s so scattered and I can’t go back to London to look around. I mean, I could, but I -- ”

“You are _not_ going back to London,” Harry interrupts sternly. There’s no room for argument in his voice, so Louis presses his hand against Harry’s shoulders harder and tries not to cry. “If you get killed, then we’re really screwed. Nobody wants you to do something stupid to try and help us.”

Louis sniffles, and Harry holds onto him tighter. 

“Whose pack do you think you found, anyway?”

“My mum said someone named Isabel came into the city the other day and it caused some ruckus. She’s the mum of two wolves. Gigi and Bella, I think, and she was poking around for a cure just like I am, and -- ”

“Do not follow that lead,” Harry says. Again, his voice is stern, but this time there’s a thread of fear in it as well. If Harry’s afraid, that means Louis should be, too. It means he should back off. But he’s so goddamn desperate that he doesn’t know if he can at this point. 

Harry must sense his hesitance, because he pulls away from Louis completely. His hands come to grip Louis’ elbows, and worry is etched into his face. “Gigi is the alpha of her pack, okay? And she’s dating a vampire. Was, anyway. But it doesn’t matter if they’re still dating or not; what matters is that Gigi’s pack was and probably still is closely aligned with the vampires.”

“Clearly not _that_ closely aligned, if her pack got cursed, too.”

And if that’s true, if Gigi is a powerful wolf with a powerful vampire boyfriend and they’re still cursed, too. . . Louis doesn’t have a shot at figuring this out and he never has. 

“Leave it,” Harry begs, eyes wide. “Please, Louis, I need you to leave them alone. Her boyfriend is probably the one protecting their pack just like you’re doing for us, and he’ll kill you the minute he figures out you’re looking into them.”

“He could want my help,” Louis tries, and the fear on Harry’s face grows. 

“I won’t let you go anywhere if you don’t promise me right now that you’ll leave that pack alone.”

He should listen to Harry. Really, he should. Harry knows more about how wolves operate than Louis does, and he’s practically begging him to back off of this. Besides, adding a bloodthirsty, desperate vampire-protector-boyfriend into the mix doesn’t fare well for Louis. If Louis ignores him and gets killed for his idiotic behavior, then Harry and his pack will be the ones to suffer the consequences for it, not him. But willingly letting go of a lead is almost impossible. 

Harry looks terrified, though. His eyebrows are furrowed together in worry, he’s biting on his lip hard enough for it to turn white, and he’s squeezing Louis’ elbows so hard that it hurts. 

“I promise,” Louis relents, his shoulders sagging as he speaks those words of defeat. Harry doesn’t look like he believes him, so he presses his hands flat against Harry’s chest and repeats, “I promise, Harry, I’ll leave it alone. Her family and her pack; I won’t touch any of it.”

“Good,” Harry whispers, and Louis knows he made the right decision as he watches how quickly the stress fades from Harry’s face. He leans down to kiss Louis again, this time more desperately. This time, he’s asking for a quiet place and intimacy. 

Every full moon, Harry and Louis go out to the dock and have sex. It’s not about feelings, because if it was, they’d waste far too much of their time by the water when that’s not the most important thing. Harry needs to spend time tonight with his pack, and everyone needs to talk about the next step -- Louis and Harry can’t interrupt that with sex. So, it’s quick because it has to be, and it’s good because it always is, and it’s an unspoken assurance that they still fit together. 

Before they can slip away together, the door opens behind them. Harry doesn’t even open his eyes as he sets his forehead against Louis’ and says, “What do you want, Liam?”

“Ben wants you,” Liam says, and Louis feels Harry tense under his hands. Louis has no way of knowing if it's Liam’s words that make him nervous, or Liam’s spiteful tone. 

“I’ll be there in a second,” Harry tells him. The door behind Louis closes, and Harry finally opens his. Voice as quietly as possible, he whispers into Louis’ ear, “Ben trusts me more than him now and he hates it.”

There’s no point in whispering when everyone inside that cabin about a foot away has a heightened sense of hearing. Louis whispers back to him anyway. “Why can’t you two just figure that out between yourselves? You and Liam have been going at it for almost a _year_ now.”

“I know my place,” Harry says, shaking his head. “Liam’s just got to know his. That’s not my responsibility, it’s Ben’s. If I were to put Liam in his place, then Ben would have my head.” He smiles softly. “Metaphorically, obviously. But still.”

“Why won’t Ben just tell him to stand down, then? I don’t get it.”

“He’s testing me,” Harry whispers with a shrug. “A good number two wouldn’t jump the gun to stake his claim. You can’t have a right-hand man who’s impulsive and possessive, can you? I get it now.”

That’s all. . . confusing and a little bit childish to Louis, but whatever. It’s not his place to interfere with wolf politics or whatever the hell is going on. It’s irritating that they won’t just solve the problem already, but whatever. Again: it’s not at all his place to judge. Instead, he says, “Sounds all a bit complicated, babe.” It’s supportive and respectful, and it won’t offend anybody who’s undoubtedly listening to them from inside. If Harry can be respectful about it even though he’s getting jerked around for no good reason, then Louis can be, too. 

“Go wait for me by the dock, okay?” Harry says, a glint in his eyes. “I’ll go take care of what Ben wants and then I’ll come take care of you, yeah?”

Louis wants to make a joke about his terrible pick-up lines or say he loves him or just keep touching him, but before he can do any of that, Liam calls his name sharply. Gently, Harry presses a kiss to Louis’ forehead before pulling away and heading inside. 

-

After all this time, Louis’ gotten used to the jokes everyone makes after Harry and Louis return inside from the dock. The whistling is a bit harder to drown out, as is the sting on his back that Nick’s hand brings when he claps his hand over his back a little too hard, laughing a little too loudly. Everyone’s in a good mood on the night of the full moon, so they’re all a bit more rowdy than normal. They’re all scared and tired and angry, sure, but they have the opportunity to feel that the other days of the month. Tonight is a night for celebration. 

Everyone is on their second plate of food by now, so Harry and Louis sit down with their first and try to catch up. The cabin is a little cramped with thirteen people, although Louis will gladly take it because normally he’s aching with loneliness. The two couches and the chairs are taken over, so Harry and Louis sit on the floor in front of the coffee table. The only two people who aren’t here right now are Maggie and Niall, which probably has an explanation that Louis doesn’t need to know. 

It’s always unsettled Louis slightly how easy it is for everyone to talk about their old lives like it’s normal. Like all those stories happened last week rather than two years ago, like they don’t take place in a city they’re banished from. It shouldn’t be as natural as it is, yet Louis’ thankful for it anyway. 

With Harry next to him, it’s hard not to take note of everything about him. How his posture is so loose and relaxed, one hand against the floor behind him for support, the other wrapped around a cold bottle of beer. His legs are crossed in front of him, and his knee rests against Louis’. When he laughs, his eyes light up and his dimple pokes through, and he instinctively looks over at Louis when each joke is cracked. Louis’ watching him lean forward to grab another beer from David when he notices a bruised cut on Harry’s lower back. 

Frowning, he reaches forward and touches it and says, “Where’d you get that?”

Everyone’s still talking around them as Harry leans back towards him, an easy smile on his face. He grabs Louis’ fingers and brings them up to his mouth to kiss. “The last time it rained, the wind was pretty bad. Knocked a branch off from a tree, and it came down and hit me. Was sound asleep, too.”

“You should’ve let me see it,” Louis says, still with a frown. “There was no point in you walking around hurt when I could’ve healed it in, like, two seconds.” Louis can’t fix broken bones or severe wounds, but he can fix up small cuts and bruises with a bit of magic. 

“I can handle a little bruise. You don’t have to use magic to fix everything, babe.”

He presses another kiss to Louis’ fingers before squeezing them and letting them go. 

They all eat together for another twenty minutes until Niall and Maggie come inside. There are more whistling and jokes, now aimed at them, and neither Niall or Maggie ignore them like Harry and Louis. Instead, the couple laugh and joke right back. 

“We weren’t fucking the whole time, to be fair,” Niall tells everyone. “We started the fire. Louis’ probably got s’mores fixings from last time, yeah?”

Louis nods. “Last time I went into town, I got more, yeah.”

Niall grabs the stereo and extension cord, Ben carries the chairs off the porch to the bonfire, Harry and Louis grab the s’mores fixings, and Nicola and Gemma drag out the coolers of beer. It’s cold outside, something that only seems to bother Louis, so he goes back inside to grab a coat. Harry follows, and Louis thinks he simply wants to be close by until he sees Harry grab his pocket knife and a half-done giraffe that he never got to finish last time. 

The fire is tall. Taller than Louis wants it to be, honestly, but whatever, it’s fine. Nobody’s going to notice smoke this late at night, and even if they did, they wouldn’t question where it’s coming from. Louis has his own chair set up, but as he goes to sit in it, Harry tugs him over to sit on his lap. He does easily, and Harry hooks his chin over Louis’ shoulder so he can see what he’s doing with the wood and knife. Louis watches him work, mesmerized by it like always, until Nick jabs a fire poker into Louis’ calf. 

“Here,” Nick says, a grin on his face. “Got a marshmallow on it for you already.”

Louis takes it with a scowl. “Gee, thanks.” He rubs his fingers over the sore spot on his calf, and Harry kisses his shoulder and mumbles out an apology to him. The irritation towards Nick fades a bit when Louis fixes Harry a s’more and sticks it in his mouth for him. 

Like this, in Harry’s lap, watching him work on his wood while he sings along to the rock station that Niall turned on, staring at the other eleven as they celebrate being human again, it’s. . . the guilt is nauseating. If Louis could just solve this stupid curse, then being a human would be normal again. They could go back to their old lives, to their families. The only thing that stands in the way of that is Louis. 

And no, it’s not fair on himself. At all. Louis didn’t cause this, he knows that. But he also knows that it is on him to fix. Somehow, someway, he has to fix it. There’s nobody else to turn to. 

Louis’ so far in his head that he doesn’t hear Harry until he says his name for the third or fourth time. When he finally processes it, Louis turns to Harry with a hopefully-convincing smile. 

“You’ve burnt our marshmallow,” Harry says, terribly fond. He helps Louis ditch the flaming marshmallow in the fire, and as Gemma puts a new marshmallow on the end of the poker for him, Harry shows him his now-finished giraffe. 

“His legs are a bit wonky,” Harry says, “but I like him anyway.”

Louis smiles softly at it before tucking the wooden animal into his front coat pocket, right against his heart. 

-

It took Harry six months to fully adjust to being a wolf the majority of the month. Every full moon Louis would ask if he was doing okay, and Harry would say yes every time, but in the sixth month, Louis knew he was telling him the truth for the first time. 

“We have it all figured out now, you know?” Harry said quietly. They were sitting in Louis’ bed facing each other, their knees touching. “We have a system now, and I feel, like, fully connected with myself. Doesn’t feel like I’m squirming out of my skin all the time anymore.” He grew quiet, then, and grabbed Louis’ hand. “I don’t want to be like this forever, but if we have to be. . .” He sighed. “I think I could deal with it.”

Louis remembers that conversation every time their night has to come to an end. When the sun starts showing itself, threatening them all, everyone goes quiet and Harry’s arms around Louis grow tighter. Everyone starts to get unsettled, but there’s still a sense of peace. This is the time that Louis has to bite his tongue so he doesn’t spew out promises he can’t keep. 

Unlike Louis, the others can feel it. When their time together is minutes away from ending, they know. Nobody ever directly says it, though. No, because that would be too close to acceptance. Instead, Harry always tells him to go inside for something stupid and everyone’s gone by the time he gets back outside. 

Tonight, Harry nudges his knee against Louis’ and says, “Why don’t you go put that giraffe in the cabinet, hmm? He might not stand well, ‘cause of his wobbly legs. Maybe you can prop it on something.”

They don’t ever say goodbye. 

“Yeah, okay,” Louis says quietly. Everyone’s watching him, some sad, some desperate, some angry. At least Harry has someone to say goodbye to. In a futile attempt at healing that wound, he offered to invite their families out every full moon. It was stupid to even ask. Nobody -- including Louis -- wants anybody to know where they are, nor do they want to put their families in any danger. The vampires probably wouldn’t do anything if they did find out where they were, but still. It’s not worth the risk. 

Louis stands and turns around to kiss Harry softly. Not too softly, not gentle enough to resemble a goodbye, just -- soft. The same type of soft that Harry’s hands are on his waist. 

As he walks to the cabin, he pulls the giraffe out of his pocket and tries not to cry. It’s okay, he keeps telling himself. Nobody’s mad at him, and he’ll see them all next month, it’s -- it’s fine. Everything’s fine. 

He hesitates only for a moment before he shuts the door behind him. When he does, he resists the urge to fall to the floor or let out a deep breath or anything dramatic that they could hear. As calmly as he can manage, he heads to the cabinet to put the giraffe with the rest of them. Harry was right, his legs are a bit wobbly, so Louis concentrates as he balances the giraffe so it’s leaning against the cabinet’s wall. 

They’re gone now, probably. Louis wants to peek out to check, but he knows Harry wouldn’t want him to. The kitchen is a mess, anyway, so Louis concentrates on putting leftovers away, plates in the sink, napkins in the garbage. It nearly takes him a half hour to find all the countertops under the mess, and once he has, he wipes his hands on his pants with a huff. 

Harry’s probably waiting for him, so Louis is quick to grab the thickest quilt that’s hanging on the back of the couch and heads back outside. He scans the front yard briefly, and there’s no sign of Harry, although he isn’t surprised in the slightest that by the time he sits down on the chair and gets the blanket settled over himself, Harry’s only a few yards away. It’s. . . strange, probably, to think that Harry’s beautiful like this. As a wolf. As a human, Harry’s strong and brave and confident, but that doesn’t necessarily translate to his looks. As a wolf, though. All of that is clear in his stature. He stands tall, steady. Proud, almost. 

(And Louis pushes down the disappointment that comes every month that Harry didn’t magically not turn when he was supposed to. The curse didn’t let go of them just because Louis wanted it to. That’d be selfish to think, so he doesn’t think it. He doesn’t.)

For some reason, Harry never moves until Louis says something. 

“It’s a nice night, isn’t it?”

It’s a stupid thing to say. It’s not a nice night, it’s getting colder and colder as they speak, and even if it was the best fucking night possible -- Harry wouldn’t care much, nor would he be able to say if he did. It gets Harry to come over to him anyway. Even though it’s probably stupid, Louis finds himself constantly being reminded of how small they really are. They’re closer to the size of a dog than a wolf, their height and weight more comparable to that of a large German shepherd or a labrador. Harry tells him that as the generations go by, the need to be so strong and scary has gone down, and in relation to that, so has their size. It’s just -- they look so innocent like this. 

Harry rests his head on Louis’ knee and makes himself as small as possible beside him. The fur behind his ears is the softest, so Louis scratches there gently. He hopes he’s giving Harry the same amount of peace that Harry’s giving him right now. 

“Fur’s so bloody soft, babe,” he mumbles. “No wonder you lot make it out here in the winter fine. I mean, you were literally built for it, obviously, just. . . yeah, I don’t fucking know what I’m even saying.”

He laughs, and the noise dies in his throat when Harry pulls back to nudge at his hand. He licks at it, and even though it’s slimy and a little gross, he doesn’t dare complain because that’s the one way Harry knows how to show him that he loves him and cares for him. 

“Do you want me to put on the radio? The music you like, not whatever shit music they were playing earlier.”

 _It wasn’t shit,_ Harry would say. _I liked it. They played Prince. Who doesn’t like Prince?_

Instead, Harry lays his head and neck over Louis’ thighs, effectively telling him not to get up. So, Louis doesn’t. He closes his eyes and pets over Harry’s thick, soft fur until he falls fast asleep. Harry will be gone by the time he wakes up, and Louis will retreat back into the cabin to heal the bug bites he’ll inevitably get before he heads back to the spellbooks. 

“I could learn to live like this,” Harry had told him all that time ago. “And do you. . . Do you think you could live like this, too? With me like this?”

Despite the fear and worry and stress, Louis immediately said, “Without a doubt. I love you. Every version of you, that’s -- of course, Harry. I love you.”

The relief and pride on Harry’s face is etched in the deepest corners of Louis’ brain. It’s the image he clings to when he needs a push of motivation or a hug of reassurance. It’s the reason as to why he does any of this. Harry’s the reason.

-

Two days later, Louis’ packing a bag to take with him to Ireland as he talks with his mum on the phone. 

“No, yeah. No -- yes, Mum, I understand that, I do.”

Her sigh is incredibly disapproving, even over the phone. “Then I don’t see what you’re going to Ireland by yourself if you know the risks. Send one of your sisters or something.”

Louis scoffs. “My _sisters_ don’t have the mental capacity to deal with a werewolf’s temperament. Any one of them would get their head bitten off if they tried. Besides, since I’m close with a pack, I have a shot of them actually listening to me.”

He shoves two pairs of socks inside the back, followed by four pairs of pants. He has no idea how long he’ll be in Ireland for. Tracking down Marie St. Claire will most likely take a little while, but getting her to talk with him will be even harder. Niall, who came to him two full moons ago to tell him that he remembered Marie, said she belonged to a small pack who has all died off by now. That’s why he didn’t think of her before; despite her still being alive, her pack is dead, and apparently she’s gone off and isolated herself. Niall didn’t even know if she was in Ireland still, but after calling Niall’s parents and having them ask around, Louis found out that she is. He has to find her, and then he has to talk to her. 

It should be easy. Totally doable. 

“I don’t even know what you expect her to tell you, Louis.”

“Literally anything,” Louis says, on the verge of snapping. He shoves a few more shirts in for good measure before zipping the bag. “She’s old, so she might know something that none of us do. She -- I don’t know, Mum, I really don’t. But it’d be stupid not to go. And Niall really wants me to, so. I’m going.”

His mum groans quietly. “You out there by yourself in the middle of nowhere is one thing, but you going to a different country by yourself is a completely different thing. I just worry, baby.”

He understands that, he really does. The distance between Louis and his family has weighed down all of their relationships, but Louis thinks it’s deservedly so. Why should Louis go and visit his family when the rest of them can’t? He doesn’t get to miss them, not when the others only have one shot at calling their families per month. 

“I’m not alone here,” he says with a frown. “I have Harry and everybody else. And in Ireland, well. It’s only going to be a few days. I’m talking to a grouchy old lady, Mum, not trying to make a deal with the devil.”

“Okay, darling. Okay. I give. Just be safe, okay?”

“I will. Promise.”

-

Marie St. Claire answers the door with a shotgun. A bloody _shotgun_. Louis nearly pisses himself right then and there.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he says frantically, taking a few steps back with his hands in the air. “I’m,” he pauses the introduction when she points the goddamn gun at him, looking as if she has the full intent to shoot it. “Niall Horan,” he spits out, cowering behind his hands. Between his fingers, he can see a flicker of recognition on her face. Her fingers loosen on the gun, and he takes his chance to explain himself. “Niall’s a friend of mine, so is Greg, he’s -- he’s in a pack, right, and he’s in one of the packs that were cursed, I don’t -- I don’t know if you know about that, but -- ”

“I’m eighty-three, not an idiot,” she snaps, and her fingers tighten on the gun again. He throws himself back another step or two. Or five or six. “You’re not a wolf, you’re a damn witch. Can smell it on you, I swear it.”

“I am a witch.” His voice shakes, and he doesn’t even care. “I am, but I’m also the mate of one of the wolf’s in Niall’s pack, so wolf business has become my business. If you could just put the gun down -- ”

She doesn’t listen to him. “That’s the stupidest thing I;ve ever heard.”

He pauses, and then, “Um. What part, exactly?”

“Wolf business isn’t _ever_ witch business. Didn’t you learn that when everything happened? Witches are too busy sniffing the rear of the vampires to give a damn about the wolves.” She sounds angry, so Louis is shocked when she lowers the gun and sets it off to the side. 

Without the gun, Louis can get a proper look at her. She’s short and petite with long, gray hair. There are glasses resting on her nose, and one of the arms looks bent. Her hands are resting in fists by her sides, and Louis hopes he doesn’t end up fighting an eighty-three-year-old today. And her house, albeit in a rough neighborhood, has a quiet charm to it. The flowers out front that have outgrown their pots look beautiful rather than messy, and the rusted bird on her mailbox is endearing. He hopes that she gets mail in it sometimes, hopes that there are others who admire the unkempt flowers. Even with Louis, Harry would be broken without his pack. 

“How did you find me?” she asks as she crosses her arms. “I don’t want to be found. Especially by some witch.”

It took three days, a lot of coffee and being yelled at by Irish people sick of Louis asking so many weird questions, nights spent on the Horan’s couch and one drunk man at the bar to find her address. She isn’t holed up in the middle of nowhere or anything, but she was hard to find anyway. Nobody knew where Marie St. Claire was. It was like she had died right along with her pack. 

“An old friend of yours was at the bar,” Louis explains. “He didn’t know where you were exactly, but he said you lived in this neighborhood. I asked a few of your neighbors and they said they didn’t know who lived here, so I thought it was safe to guess it was you.”

She looks mildly irritated by that, but she doesn’t pick the shotgun back up. Louis takes it as a win. 

“You said you knew those Horan boys?” she asks. Reluctance is clear in her tone, and she doesn’t move to invite him inside. “I knew their granddad. Good guy. Awful humor.”

Louis grins. “Niall can be the same way.”

“You said his pack was one of the ones that got turned. It’s terrible, what’s happened to them. But I don’t know what you want me to do about it. I don’t know nothing about anything to do with that mess.”

Louis tries not to accept defeat so quickly. He knew it was a long shot, anyway. 

“But maybe you know someone that does?” Louis tries. “Or maybe you know something about the witch who did it, or an old powerful witch I can talk to. Anything could help them, honest.”

“I _told_ you,” Marie snaps. “Wolf business is _not_ witch business. And it goes the other way, too. I don’t know anything about your kind, nor do I want to.”

“But it’s for _your_ kind,” Louis tells her, exasperated. He’s never seen this world in divisions between wolves and witches and vampires and humans, but if she wants to play that game, then fine. “If you know something that could help and don’t tell me, then twelve very good people are going to stay cursed for the rest of their lives. For the rest of _my_ life. _Help them_.”

She chews on the inside of her cheek for a minute, maybe two, before she rolls her eyes and stamps her foot a bit. Louis is the last thing she wanted to show up on her doorstep, honestly. She’ll be fuming about it for weeks. And Louis doesn’t care, so long as he gets what he came here for. 

“Sean O'Sullivan,” she spits at him. “I don’t know where he is or who might know. I don’t know if he can even help you. But I _do_ know that he was in London when it all happened. He was a journalist, of sorts. Wrote, but never published anything. Who would believe him, wolves and vampires fighting in London?”

“Nobody,” Louis agrees. “Is he a wolf, then?”

She shakes her head. “Human. I met him years ago when he was writing a piece on what happened to my pack. Damn near shot him with my gun, much like I did with you today. What’s it with men showing up places they aren’t wanted? Maybe it’s not just a witch thing.”

“Maybe not,” he relents. He nods once and says, “Thanks, Marie. Really. I appreciate it. Have a nice day.”

He walks down the short gravel drive to the Horan’s car. This was good. Enough. Good enough. Sean O’Sullivan; he can work with that. He’ll do his damn best to make sure this trip was worth it. 

“Hey, kid!” Marie calls out to him. He’s only just opened the car door, he turns to her expectantly. “You look after them, alright? You keep them safe. We don’t need any more of us dying.”

“I will,” he promises. 

-

Sean O'Sullivan is dead. 

It takes Louis all of four minutes on the Horan’s computer to find his obituary online. _Sean Francis O’Sullivan. 89. Son, husband, friend. You will be dearly missed, Sean. Rest easy._

It makes Louis so angry that he finds himself cursing out poor Sean O’Sullivan. Times like these make it hard to ignore how much this curse has taken over his life. This has changed him. It’s made him angrier, darker. Far more jaded with life than he’d ever admit to. Sean wasn’t a piece of the puzzle, he was a person, and Louis has to remind himself of that. It shouldn’t be hard to do that. 

He feels a bit better about himself when Maura mutters, “Goddammit. Of course he’s bloody dead.” And then that brief relief passes, because it doesn’t matter if he’s a good person or not. What matters is that he had a maybe-lead, and that maybe-lead quickly turned into nothing. This is so fucking exhausted. He can’t stand it anymore. 

After some digging, Louis finds that Sean’s wife is dead, too, and he didn’t have any kids. His parents are dead as well. So, if there was something -- _anything_ \-- in those reports he was writing that Marie told him about, it’s most likely that they were thrown out along with the rest of his belongings. Louis doesn’t even know where he’d look for them, if they were given to the government to look after or something. He doesn’t know how bloody wills and estates work. All he knows is that he failed the people counting on him, yet again.

“At least stay for dinner, love,” Maura tries. Louis wants to refuse, and he would, if it wasn’t for the fact that both of her sons haven’t been able to come home for dinner in two years and it’s partially his fault. So, he eats dinner with her and talks with her about whatever they can that doesn’t involve the pack. It’s too much to discuss after today’s failure. 

He starts the drive home from Ireland that night despite Maura’s vehement disapproval. To ease her nerves, he takes a nap before he leaves, but that’s it. Being here isn’t helping anyone anymore. Being away is just stressing Harry out, he knows it is, which in turn is probably stressing the entire pack out. All for a dead-end. _Fuck_.

He drives for as long as he possibly can. Until his legs start to go numb, he can’t see straight anymore, and he has to piss so bad he might burst before he gets to a bathroom. By that time, it’s pitch black outside and he’s too exhausted to care that the motel he checks into in. . . somewhere, he doesn’t know where, is dingy and too expensive for what it is.

He’s too tired to be angry before he passes out in bed. He does, however, spend his last waking thought wishing he could text Harry that he’d be home soon. 

-

When he returns home the next day, Harry is waiting for him on the porch. He must’ve heard the car in the distance. Louis barely even manages to get out of the car before Harry’s right there, licking at his hands and nudging his nose into Louis’ torso and whimpering softly. He must’ve been worried sick. Louis _told_ him he’d be gone for a few days, but it doesn’t matter, not when the only thing Harry has to do these days is worry. 

“I’m back, I’m back, I know, I’m sorry.” A loud laugh rips from him when Harry huffs and paws at his thigh, hard enough to push him back a little like he’s annoyed. It’s about the only genuine, positive feeling he’s had in the last few days, and it feels nice.

Of course Harry’s the one to pull it from him. 

Louis bends down a little to pet him better, and Harry gets a little too eager and bumps his head, hard, against Louis’ chin. Harry pays no mind to it, oblivious, and Louis ignores the stinging of his jaw, too. It doesn’t matter. 

“Niall and Greg’s family is good,” Louis tells him. “They miss them, but. They’re good.” He sighs and scratches Harry’s neck. “I didn’t find anything, though. I’m sorry.”

Harry barks, _loudly,_ right next to Louis’ ear. It’s a clear sign of disapproval in response to Louis being hard on himself, and Louis pushes his head away from him gently. 

“I can’t do you much good if I’m deaf, thanks. But your irritation is noted.”

After another huff, Harry steps forward even closer to set his forehead flat against Louis’ chest, his nose pressed against Louis’ rib cage. Louis’ seen some of them do this to Ben before. He remembers the first time he saw Harry nuzzling his head under Ben’s chin, against his neck, he thought, _wow, this is fucking weird_. And he also thought that it was sort of beautiful, because before all of this, he never got to see Harry like this. Any of them like this, in fact. Seeing Harry navigate the world as a wolf is stunning. Louis knew that Harry was close with his wolf side, but to see it firsthand like that -- it’s a nice reminder. 

“I love you, you know,” Louis says, and Harry whines in response. 

For the first time since the beginning, Harry follows Louis inside and jumps into bed with him. He curls up beside him and rests his chin on Louis’ hip, and Louis pets his hand over his head. It’s comforting to have him in bed with him, but at the same time, it’s not normal. Louis desperately hopes Harry isn’t getting lonely or depressed or anything like that. He hopes this is just a product of a lot of worrying over the last few days. 

“I love you,” Louis repeats firmly, hoping it’s helping something. Harry makes a funny noise before flopping onto his back, belly up, and again, a bright laugh explodes from Louis. 

-

The month passes by slowly. 

Every morning, he wakes up, makes himself coffee, and sits out on the front porch with something to entertain himself -- a crossword puzzle, a word search, his phone. Something. One morning, he sees Scott and Ruth bolt out of the woods as they chase each other. They’re only messing around, and Louis watches it with a soft smile hidden behind his coffee mug. Another morning, he sees Ben sitting at the end of the dock by himself. It’s like a painting, almost, one strong, lone wolf overlooking the lake in deep thought, and Louis hesitates to ruin it but chooses to anyway. 

For obvious reasons, it’s much more difficult to communicate with the others than it is to with Harry. They’re not so quick to nuzzle or lick at him like Harry is. So, all he does is sit next to Ben, his legs hanging off the side. The mutual peace lasts for all of two seconds, because Ben hangs his head and paws at the wood before turning his head. Louis follows his gaze, and Harry is slinking towards them, head down and ears back like he’s trying to keep hidden. Louis doesn’t understand it much, although he assumes all is well because Harry licks at Ben’s muzzle before sniffing at Louis. 

For the most part, though, Louis is on his own. After his morning coffee, he heads inside and tries to do some research, whatever that might look like. He does that until his head hurts and he can’t see straight, and then he moves to the couch and watches TV. This is the point in the day where he’s downright miserable and mad at himself. It lingers for the rest of the night, and then he goes to bed. 

For three and a half weeks, that’s what his month looks like. It’s exhausting and lonely and so fucking boring, but at least he gets to be fucking human. At least he has that. 

-

Tonight, Harry’s wearing a thick, green jacket lined with wool, a worn gray t-shirt, a loose pair of black sweats, and white socks that have a hole in the heel. Louis was wearing a black tee and matching joggers, but he hasn’t put them back on since Harry took them off. The only thing he’s wearing are his pants, and yeah, it’s a little bit nippy out tonight, but Harry’s acting like they’re in the middle of the arctic with how quickly he put back on his clothes and hugged his jacket tighter. 

“It’s bloody freezing out here,” Harry insists again, shaking his head. “Put on your shirt, at least. You’re going to catch a cold.”

“It’s really not that bad. I think you’re just used to your fur coat now.”

“Probably, but it is cold, Louis. Come on. Put some clothes on.”

Louis obeys with an eye roll, and once he has his shirt and joggers on, he gives Harry a look. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever insisted I put clothes on.”

Harry smiles and leans over to kiss him. Their lips are still red and throbbing from only having stopped kissing a few minutes ago, a reminder of the rare intimacy they can barely share together anymore. Harry’s so gentle with him that it drives Louis mad sometimes. Here Louis is, ramped up with need and want, and Harry still manages to keep his cool. 

The rest of the pack are inside, tearing up the kitchen and undoubtedly slopping food everywhere. He’ll complain about the mess while secretly being thankful for it later. It’ll give him something to do once they’re gone. Later, though. Right now, Harry’s in front of him, Harry’s kissing him, and Harry’s human. 

“I can’t believe I used to be able to have you all the time,” Harry whispers, and he’s close enough that his lips bump against Louis’ as he talks. He presses another firm kiss to Louis before pulling away further, his hand coming up to cup Louis’ cheek. “I miss us. I miss us so much.”

Always easy to cry when Harry allows himself to be vulnerable about this, tears flood Louis’ eyes. He tilts his head to rest against Harry’s hand more. “I know. Me too.”

Louis’ close to crying, but Harry’s eyes are lit up with excitement. 

“I miss your stupid little con-shop,” Harry says, earning a scoff from Louis. 

“It was _not_ a con-shop.”

“I miss you arguing with me about your con-shop being a con-shop every day before work,” Harry says, and he presses his thumb harder against Louis’ cheekbone. He looks so happy, it’s maddening. He would have every right to cry and scream about this, and he just doesn’t. 

“I miss waking up in the middle of the night whenever you rolled over so I could cuddle you again,” he continues, eyes still twinkling like he’s more happy than sad. “I miss -- God, you remember that shop down the street? The one with the bad scones? I miss going there with you.” He bites down on his bottom lip, and slowly, his eyes start to show that maybe the scales are tipping. Ducking his head down, he says, “I miss my mum. And I miss my sister, because she’s even more annoying as a wolf, you know. Always wants to play, but she’s so goddamn bitey.” A wretched sound disguised as a laugh comes from him. “I miss -- I miss full moons. The real ones, not these. Getting to run around with my pack one night a month, that was. . . magical. Breathtaking. The best night of my life. And now I sort of hate being a wolf, and I hate that. I never wanted to lose that part of me.”

Louis takes a deep breath, trying to process that. It’s a lot, and it came out of nowhere. Knowing that Harry feels like this is difficult to deal with. Out of everything he said, though, the one thing crushing his heart is that Harry is finally getting to the point that he’s sick of being a wolf, that he’s learning to hate being like this. Harry used to talk about being a wolf like he won the lottery with the gene-pool, and now he’s saying he hates it. 

“I miss driving,” Harry says before Louis responds. He picks his head back up, and he doesn’t look sad anymore. “I miss that a lot. Such a weird thing to miss, right?”

“Sort of.” Louis gives him a soft smile and reaches up to hold the hand against his cheek. “After driving to Ireland, I don’t think I ever want to drive again.”

Harry opens his mouth to speak, and before he can, a voice calls out from behind them: “You two done fucking or what? We want to go swimming!”

“It’s too cold!” Harry calls back, turning to look at Nick who has his head sticking out of the front door. The warning isn’t enough, apparently, because only a second later, everyone comes out of the cabin in bras and shorts, beers in their hands. They’re all laughing about something, and Gemma and Ruth are pushing at each other. Louis watches them with a soft smile on his face, all the way up until Nick and David come running down the dock without warning. Harry and Louis barely have any time to pull away from each other and get out of the way before they jump into the lake, and Harry scowls as water splashes over both of them. 

“You can go swimming if you want to,” Harry tells him as he stands. He helps Louis up and says, “But I’m not freezing to death right now.”

“Loser,” Gemma says, now close enough to push at Harry’s shoulder, and Harry pushes her right back. Thankfully, Gemma doesn’t take the challenge and, with less power than the boys, slides into the water. 

Louis shakes his head and squeezes Harry’s hand before tugging them off the dock and to the grass. They watch everyone else jump in with loud laughs and shouts, and someone turns the radio on, and the beer cooler has been dragged to the edge of the dock. If they weren’t having so much fun, Louis might find this all a little childish. 

“We’re not going, either,” Niall says, and he sets down two chairs while Maggie sets down another two. “Maggie doesn’t feel all that well, and I don’t either, to be honest.”

The four of them sit down, facing the lake with their backs towards the cabin. Harry turns towards Maggie and Niall instead of him, and he’s frowning. “You didn’t feel well the other night, either,” Harry says to Maggie, and there’s something about his tone that catches Louis’ attention. It’s. . . authoritative, almost. The kind of voice that belongs to someone you blindly trust. Harry’s back is suddenly a lot more tense, his shoulders are straight, and his eyes are darting between Niall and Maggie. 

His demeanor means something, and it’s confirmed when Ben comes from behind them and ruffles Harry’s hair, pushing his head away lightly. “They’re fine,” he says, and yeah, there’s that tone of voice again. “You worry too much, Harry.”

Harry looks mildly irritated as he bats Ben’s hand away. “If some sort of sickness rips through our pack, we’re -- ”

“My pack,” Ben corrects calmly, and Harry glowers at him. 

“ _Our_ pack,” he argues. “If one of us gets sick, it’ll screw all of us over, no? That makes it an _us_ problem, Ben.”

Over the years, Louis has perfected the art of ignoring these catty pack issues. He doesn’t understand it and he has no place in it. But right now, Harry and Ben are far too tense, their stares far too mean, for Louis to just look away from this. 

“I’m not undermining your position,” Harry snaps, his fingers curling over the back of the chair. “I can tell you’re thinking it, and I’m quite sick of you accusing me of that.”

Despite the glare he has trained on Harry, Ben remains calm. He looks disinterested in this, somehow. “You’ve been a brat this past month.”

“Because something has been gnawing at my instincts and my alpha keeps telling me to ignore it,” Harry spits as he shakes his head. “What if one of us is sick, what if that’s what has been bothering me? It could happen, it could.”

Still level-headed, Ben says, “Well, it’s a good thing that it’s not your instincts that we’re following.” He gives Harry one last menacing look before heading back to the porch and grabbing another folding chair for himself. He plants it next to Louis, and the way Harry’s hand curls around Louis’ thigh is protective. Territorial. So, _so_ weird. 

Louis thought the issues were between Harry and Liam, not Harry and Ben. Maybe he was wrong. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence between the five of them, and Maggie’s the one to break it. “You have been awfully hard on him, Ben,” she says, meek in the way some of them still are while talking to Ben. It’s a respect thing. Not everyone feels so emboldened to talk to their alpha like Harry apparently does. 

Ben sighs, leaning back into his chair. “Do you think someone’s sick, Mags?”

She echoes her sigh. “No, I don’t think so.”

“And how would you like it if someone you’re not supposed to worry about gives you a hard time every single day over something that’s not happening?”

“That’s not fair,” Harry butts in. Louis sets his hand over Harry’s, hating the way this all feels. It’s suffocating. 

“I think we all know Harry has good intentions,” Niall intervenes, for once the peacekeeper here. He has an arm around Maggie, holding her close to his side. “Harry’s as loyal as they come. To all of us. Of course he’s going to be a little bratty if he thinks one of us is ill. That’s what you’re looking for, isn’t it? Someone protective and loyal and caring?”

“Liam is all of those things,” Ben says, and Harry sucks in a sharp breath as he turns away, his jaw clenched. His hold tightens around Louis’ knee, and as much as this clearly needs to be sorted out, Louis doesn’t want them arguing over this tonight. Not in front of him, either. It’s nerve-wracking. 

“Argue about this later, yeah?” Louis says, as firmly as he can manage. It fails to sound even half as steady as Harry’s or Ben’s. “I don’t know why you all seem a little more tense than usual tonight, but it can wait, right?”

Maggie snorts. “Not all of us are tense,” she says, and she motions to the others in the lake. It pulls a strained laugh out of both Louis and Niall, while Harry and Ben don’t budge. 

A few minutes go by of uncomfortable silence before Harry sighs loudly and turns to Ben. He doesn’t look any less irritated. “I respect you,” he says. “I trust you. You and your stupid instincts. I don’t want to add any more stress to the pack than there already is. So I’ll lay off, okay? I will.”

Ben nods shortly. “Okay.”

“I’m serious,” Harry says. “The only person that I’m more loyal to than I am to you is Louis. I don’t want you to ever doubt that.”

“I don’t, Harry.”

Those three words make Harry, Niall and Maggie all relax, and Louis feels himself loosen up, too. 

“Don’t know why you had to go and fall in love with a witch, though,” Ben continues, and Louis rolls his eyes. Of course he’s the topic they use to lighten the mood. 

Niall laughs. “An awfully stubborn one, too.”

“What, like you aren’t stubborn?” Maggie asks, hitting Niall in the arm. The tension effectively resolves from there, and Louis stops feeling like he’s holding his breath when Harry finally stops gripping onto his knee like it’s the only thing grounding him. 

For the rest of the night, the five of them watch the others act like idiots in the lake, without any arguments amongst them. Ben and Harry get along fine, so whatever grudge they clearly have against each other has been dropped for now. The tension between them doesn’t stop Harry from forgetting about it; he turns to Louis and talks with him the rest of the time they have together. 

The moon overlooks them all, full and bright in the sky. When it’s whole, they can all be whole again, too. Louis stares at it as Harry talks to him about that time that he, Greg and Niall went to Ireland for a whole summer. If something is going to control their lives, Louis thinks, at least it’s beautiful. 

-

Louis used to hate the snow, up until he met Harry. 

As the big brother of too many siblings, Louis was often enlisted to be the ones to get his sisters bundled up in snowsuits and take them outside to play. He’d be the one dragging the sleds behind them, or helping snowmen stand to avoid temper-tantrums, and carving out snow-caves for them after too much pouting. He was responsible for shoveling the snow off their drive, too, which sucked. His sisters helped, but their ‘help’ was just them throwing snowballs at him until he flung a shovel-full of snow at them. 

Point is, he grew to hate snow. But Harry -- Harry loves it. One night, when he was drunk, he said it was like the clouds had come to the ground for a little break because they were tired. Harry would grin when he pulled back the curtains and saw snow. And it was different with Harry, because he pulled his own sled and he did the walk by himself and he wiped off Louis’ car for him every morning before work. He could make snowmen well on his own, and he didn’t get nervous driving on ice. 

The first winter they spent together, Louis wouldn’t budge on his snow-hating stance, no matter how hard Harry tried. The second winter, though, Louis couldn’t help but admit that sure, snow was pretty, and yes, it was cute when Harry’s face flushed with the chill. As their years together added up, Louis’ hatred for winter thawed out. He doesn’t look forward to it, but he does have a soft spot for it due to how happy it makes Harry. 

It’s summer, though, so Louis doesn’t know why he’s dreaming about making snow angels with Harry in his childhood home. Despite it making no sense, it’s still a nice dream. And it’s interrupted by a series of thunderous barks coming from outside. 

Louis trips out of bed, his foot getting caught in the blanket, and while he’s fighting the sheets to gain his footing, the barks turn to whimpers. “Shit,” Louis hisses, assuming the worst. Someone must be hurt, someone --

More barks, and Louis gets his foot free. He leaps to his feet and runs to the front door, and he opens it to find the sun is out and Harry is standing in front of the cabin, barking and whimpering. When he sees Louis, he lets out a deep, drawn-out whimper before he turns around and runs into the woods. 

“Wait, _Harry_.”

Louis has absolutely no chance at keeping up with Harry, but he tries his best anyway. His feet get cut up from rocks and plants and sticks, which adds to the confused panic in Louis’ mind. Harry is slowed down just enough for Louis to keep sight of him so he knows which way to go, and after a few minutes of running, Harry slows and the rest of the pack comes into view. 

It’s disorienting, at first, seeing them all together like this as wolves. It’s mind-numbing to try and match their faces to everyone, and he doesn’t have to, because it seems like the only one who needs his attention is Maggie. Her bright orange fur is easy to spot, as is Niall’s near-silver, gray fur. 

She’s laying on her side, and Louis watches her stomach move up and down with slow breaths. Niall’s behind her, matching Harry’s quiet whimpers, and Louis doesn’t know what the fuck is going on or how he’s supposed to figure that out. He stands there, staring, with pants that explode from his chest and confusion that clouds his brain. And then Niall paws at Maggie’s stomach, ever so gently, and Louis frowns. 

“What, she’s sick?” Louis asks, dropping to his knees in front of her. He sets one hand on her stomach and uses the other to stroke gently over his soft orange fur. 

He startles when Niall and Harry bark at him at the same time. Louis doesn’t know if that’s a yes or a no, until they keep barking at him. 

“Okay, she’s not sick, so what? What -- what’s wrong with her?”

Maggie huffs out a breath, and Niall barks again as he lifts his paw to touch her stomach again. And if she’s not sick, there’s only one other thing that would make sense with her stomach being the only clue. 

Louis stares into Niall’s panicked blue eyes. “She’s pregnant? That’s -- How do you even know that?”

Harry whimpers beside him, and he nudges his nose against Louis’ hand. 

This is mad. This is insane. If she’s pregnant, that’s -- fine. Right? It’s fine, that’s fine, but it’s also not really fine because how would that work? Would that baby be cursed, too? Or would it stay permanently a wolf, or permanently a human? Werewolves don’t tap into their wolf-side until puberty, so that’s -- that’s still fine, right? Louis can handle a baby. But that’s crazy, because then Maggie and Niall could only hold their baby once a month, and that’s only if the baby is born as a human. Which if that happens -- Maggie is a wolf. She’s a _wolf._ She can’t give birth to a bloody human _baby,_ and what are the chances that she’d give birth on a full moon? Very low. And --

Louis lifts his head slowly to see everyone staring at him. Niall, Harry, Ben -- everyone. This is yet another problem they expect him to solve, except this problem is completely out of his realm of capabilities. This has nothing to do with magic, this is -- fuck. _Fuck._ But they’re all clearly panicking, too, showing their anxieties in pacing and whimpering and with their heads hung low. Louis can’t just sit here and panic with them, they need him to do something else. 

“This is okay,” he says as convincingly as he can manage. Niall drops his head so his chin is resting on Maggie’s back, and Louis tries not to wince. He must feel so guilty right now. “This is fine, guys. It’s just a baby. We can handle a baby. It’ll be some adjustments, sure, but it’s just a baby. Maggie will be fine, and the baby will be fine, and you lot will have another pack member. We’ll figure this out, okay?”

He stops, almost expecting an answer. When nobody responds, Louis sighs. 

“I’ll get a blanket and pillow for her, yeah? So she’s more comfortable.” He’s offered that before, but Ben said that’s not how wolves do things. He’s sure this situation warrants an exception. “And, I don’t know, maybe I can find a trustworthy vet who -- ”

He doesn’t get to finish that sentence, because Ben barks at him, angrily and as a clear _no_. Harry’s ears flatten and he presses himself against Louis’ side, protective. Louis sets a hand on his side in an attempt to show that he doesn’t care that Ben barked at him. 

“I was just thinking a doctor or a vet could help,” he continues carefully. “And, to be quite honest with you, Ben, I think that’s Maggie and Niall’s decision to make, not yours.”

Ages ago, nearly the beginning, Nick and Niall got into a fist-fight in the middle of the pack’s flat, right in the kitchen. Everyone was drunk, and Nick was being dickish, and it sort of just happened. It wasn’t anything crazy -- they weren’t trying to permanently injure each other -- but it was definitely more heated than Louis liked. It made him nervous, as did the cool gaze Ben watched them with, and Harry took him to one of the bedrooms. 

“Isn’t it, like, Ben’s job to keep you guys in check?” Louis asked quietly, and Harry just shrugged. 

“It’s normal for us to want to kill each other every now and then. Nick started something, and now he has to finish it. It’s how this pack works.”

Louis wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think I understand it that much.”

And he never really has, honestly. The brotherhood and the bond they share, Louis understands. The way they all blindly respect Ben he understands, too. But when things get messy -- and with a predominantly male pack, several dominant men, and everyone with a wolves’ temperament, it does often enough -- he’s never understood the dynamic. Ben’s the alpha, but it never seems like he actually tries to _fix_ anything. Rather than micro-managing everything, he lets things play out. So, Louis’ always just trusted it and looked the other way, just like he does every time Harry and Liam size each other up and the last full moon when Ben and Harry got into it. (And Louis doesn’t know when Harry started getting into the middle of it all, if that’s new or if he’s always been a little bit of an agitator. He’ll have to ask him next time Harry can answer.) 

Maybe it was wrong of him to never take the time to really understand the dynamic of the pack, and maybe he made a mistake in thinking that dynamic didn’t apply to him. 

In response to Louis’ brash tone, Ben stands taller, wider, and barks again, this time as more of a growl. It’s enough for Louis to realize that offense was taken where none was meant to be given, and he’s about to apologize. Before he can, Harry takes a large step in front of Louis and growls. 

Louis sits back on his heels, swallowing thickly. This probably isn’t good. No, it’s really not good, because Ben lets out the most intimidating noise Louis has just about ever heard, and somehow, Harry beats it. Louis’ at a loss of words, confused how a simple statement is enough to spark some sort of territory war, but he quickly finds some when Liam steps in between them and Harry lunges at him. He doesn’t do anything -- he just makes it very, very clear that he will the second Liam tries to include himself in this fight. 

“Stop it,” Louis snaps. His tiny human voice sounds awfully weak next to theirs. He does his best anyway. “Don’t start right now. Either of you.”

But maybe it’s too late, because Ben and Harry are clearly calculating their odds and Liam is shifting nervously between them. Harry’s stood in front of Louis still, but now his mouth is right near Liam’s throat and Ben’s not too far behind. Harry wouldn’t seriously injure anyone -- none of them would -- but the threat still stands, and Louis hates it. He _hates_ it. And he really hates how the others are slowly backing off. Even Maggie goes to stand, and both Niall and Louis get her to stay lying down. 

“This isn’t the time for this,” Louis tells them. “Maggie is pregnant, and she’s probably not feeling well, and the last thing any of you need is two of you going at each other’s throats.”

Nobody even reacts to his words, so Louis tries to get through to Harry through touch instead. He leans forward and rests his hand on Harry’s side, and it earns him a small huff and shifting feet. That’s it. 

“Harry,” Louis says hotly. “I’m being serious. If this is over me, then stop it now. I’m fine, and you’re acting like a moron. I never took you to be so aggressive.”

Again, all Harry does is subtly paw at the ground. He’s acknowledging Louis while also ignoring everything he’s trying to say.

Louis stands, and Harry shifts so he’s still covering him. “I don’t _need_ your protection,” he snaps. “ _You_ need _mine_. All of you do. And someone needs to do something for Maggie, and apparently that someone has to be me because all three people who are supposedly in charge of this pack are kicking up dust over _nothing_.”

All he wants to do is get through to Harry, because that’s the person he’s supposed to be looking out for. He wants Harry to be the one to back down, for him. It’s probably why he doesn’t consider how Ben might take that, Louis doubting his capabilities. _He’s_ the moron, and maybe Marie was right, maybe witches have no business being in wolf business. 

Ben snarls, and Harry is a second away from jumping at him when Niall gets up and barks at all of them. And shit, Louis thinks, this is going to be a four person fight now, isn’t it, but surprisingly enough, Harry backs down. Finally, Niall is enough to remind him of the actual problem at hand. He huffs quietly and nudges his head against Liam’s which is supposed to mean -- something, Louis can’t identify it as a threat or an apology. Harry presses his body against Niall’s, their bodies briefly leaned against each other, before he finds his way back to Maggie. He licks at her muzzle before his eyes find Louis, and there’s an apology in them somewhere. 

Louis tosses his hands up exasperatedly. “I don’t know what that was all about,” he says, “but I’m gonna go inside and call my mum, alright? She used to be a midwife, and she can hopefully tell me something important. If not, we can all talk about this in two weeks at the full moon, okay? If you all don’t kill each other by then?”

Ben’s glaring at him still, and Louis doesn’t much give a fuck. He could’ve used his magic to give them all the worst headache of their lives to get them to calm down, but he didn’t want to hurt Maggie or the baby. Besides, he doesn’t like using his magic like that. 

Louis turns and starts to make the long walk back to the cabin. His feet hurt and his head is pounding and his brain is a mess right now. He had only just woken up, and then he was dealing with a pregnant werewolf and then a pissing contest, it’s -- a lot. And it adds more things to Louis’ plate that he doesn’t know how to handle. He just needs to sit down for five minutes and think, because right now, he’s so overwhelmed that he doesn’t know what to do. 

There’s movement behind him, and Louis knows it’s Harry following him. Of course it is. Louis’ upset with him, though, so he doesn’t acknowledge his presence. It lasts for about three minutes, because then Harry whines quietly and speeds up so he’s walking in stride with Louis. Louis contemplates paying attention to him, and when Harry licks at his hand, he sighs and strokes his fingers over his back. 

“Don’t fight with Ben or Liam,” Louis demands. “Seriously, Harry, I don’t like you being so hostile. And Maggie is pregnant now, and the pack needs unity more than ever right now. And for the love of God, don’t start a fight over me unless someone’s, like, actively trying to kill me, okay? It’s embarrassing.”

Harry nudges his body against his and licks his hand, and Louis nods. 

“Apology accepted.”

-


	2. chapter two

-

For the next two weeks, Louis worries, and worries, and worries. 

Besides his mum, he hasn’t been able to talk about this with someone. His mum wasn’t all that helpful, either. She was just as bewildered as him, and her only response to his concerns was: _dear, I delivered human babies from human mothers, I don’t know, I don’t know_. And when he brought up the possibility of a human baby growing inside of Maggie, his mum would just get really quiet and say, _I can’t even picture that happening._

So, Louis’ on his own. It’s just him and his worry, and three wolves currently living in his cabin like it’s normal. 

From day one, Louis said anybody could stay with him in the cabin. Hell, he offered the space to _everyone_ , knowing that they probably wouldn’t all fit comfortably. They never took him up on his offer, and he’s not mad that they have now. Niall and Maggie mostly stay to themselves, anyway. They don’t seem to like it all too much when Louis fusses over her. She’s in good health, it looks like, but they all know that will change very fast if a wolf is expected to deliver a baby rather than a pup. 

They’ll find out, won’t they. Either she’ll give birth in a few weeks, or a few months. Or maybe the baby will die before term, and maybe Maggie will, too. They just don’t know. Louis is dying to get a veterinarian over here to look at her, but he can’t make that decision for them. They’ll all talk about it and make a decision together once they’re the same fucking species. 

Harry is the third wolf staying in the cabin, obviously. He’s on Louis’ feet almost all day. At first, it was endearing and filled a hole in Louis’ heart that’s been kept empty for years, but now, it’s a little worrying. Harry goes out into the woods to sleep with the rest of the pack every night, but every morning when Louis wakes up, Harry’s either curled up in bed with him or with Niall and Maggie. 

The problem is, Louis doesn’t know if Harry wants to be close to Niall and Maggie or if he wants to be far away from Ben and Liam. Whenever Ben comes up to the cabin to check on Maggie, which is every other day or so, Harry doesn’t act angry or anything, but it’s. . . Louis has come to realize that just because Harry hasn’t explicitly shown his anger all that much about the curse, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t harbor anger elsewhere. After each small incident, Louis’ now almost certain that Harry’s always angry. 

Louis talks to him about it, and of course, Harry doesn’t answer. In his own ways, sure, but when Harry can actually, properly talk to him about this, hopefully he’ll have better answers than a blank stare or a nudge or a lick.

“When you introduced me to Ben, you said he was like a parent to you,” Louis says to him one morning. They’re in the kitchen, and Louis’ making bacon. “I get you’re older now, but I don’t know what’s changed. You said it was just pack stuff last time, but I don’t know. I think it’s _you_ stuff.”

Harry just stays where he is, pressed up behind Louis as he watches the stove. 

For two weeks, Louis has Harry on his heels, a semi-uncomfortable, pregnant wolf and her mate in his living room, and spends his afternoons Googling about pregnancies, both human and wolf ones or looking into spells to relieve some of Maggie’s stress and discomfort. Again, she seems decent, but Louis wants the soon-to-be mother of a maybe-human-baby to be better than just _decent_. 

The only spell that has proven to be useful is some spell that his mum sent him a picture of. The first time he did it, Louis didn’t even think it’d work, and he was petrified of screwing it up, but he explained it to Niall and Maggie and they gave him hesitant permission to do it. So, Louis bent down in front of her, closed his eyes, set his hands on her belly, and rehearsed the spell. Once, and then twice when nothing happened. He wasn’t taught to give up so easy, so he kept on concentrating, and sure enough, he felt it. 

Sensed it, is the probably the right word. If he does the spell and concentrates hard enough, he can sense the presence of another life in her stomach. It’s the confirmation that didn’t really need -- wolves have a sense of their own, apparently -- but it’s nightly confirmation that the baby is okay. It brings clear peace to Maggie and Niall, and that’s all that matters. 

-

The day of the full moon, Louis can barely bring himself to cook. He does, but not nearly as happily as normal. He’s just so stressed, and he’s also stressed about his stress wearing off of the other three and making them more stressed, and -- yeah. Stress is the buzz-word of the last two weeks in Louis’ mind. 

Nobody knows how Maggie shifting tonight will affect the baby. Nobody knows anything, and that’s terrifying. It has Harry pacing the small kitchen as Louis cooks, and it only adds to Louis’ concern. 

It adds to his anger, too. When he finds that stupid fucking witch who did this to them -- which will be _never,_ because he apparent can’t do anything -- the amount of injury he inflicts on them will depend on what happens to Maggie and that baby. 

At the thought, Louis drifts away from the stove to head to the living room to discreetly check on her. Niall and Maggie are curled up together on the couch, a blur of gray and orange fur, and the TV’s still on from earlier. They both seem content, so he goes back to the kitchen as quietly as he came. 

Harry has stopped pacing and is staring at the stove. When Louis walks past him, he tugs on his ear gently before giving him a freshly-baked biscuit. It’s nice having someone else in the kitchen with him. 

As the night starts to settle in, Harry disappears from the kitchen to be by Niall and Maggie. The three of them are so still, so quiet, and Louis doesn’t realize they left the cabin to go to the woods to turn until he finds an empty living room. 

Now, Louis has to worry by himself. He takes a deep breath, grabs a blanket, and heads outside himself, hoping the cool air will do him good. As he waits, he stares at the moon and prays that this night doesn’t end in tragedy. 

Once it’s time, Louis glances towards the edge of the woods. There are so many stressful conversations to be had tonight, so many decisions. Already, those decisions won’t be easy, and adding Niall and Maggie’s fear and protectiveness complicates things enough. The last thing any of them need is for Harry and Ben and Liam to be unable to put their power-trips aside for one night. 

Ben’s barely just reached the clothing line when Harry comes out. Not third or fourth, but second. Louis doesn’t know if it means anything, and he doesn’t pay much attention to it because then Maggie’s walking out behind him. She looks fine, no pain in her posture, and her belly is rounded into a small bump. Again, they already knew she was pregnant, but _fuck_.

Louis watches them. Watches how Harry grabs clothes for Maggie before he gets dressed himself, watches how Ben stares at them with an unreadable look on his face. Louis’ watching Harry’s fingers work quickly over the drawstring of his sweats when Maggie starts towards him, her feet moving quickly. He stands and makes her way over to her, and she grabs his hands and sets them against her stomach.

“Check,” she begs, her eyes darting over her face. “Check, check that the baby is fine.”

He lays his hands flat over round belly and closes his eyes. She keeps quietly begging him to check, and she doesn’t stop until Harry’s voice whispers, “He can’t concentrate if you talk. It’s fine, Mags, the baby’s fine. I just know it.”

And then it’s silent, aside from a few other people crowding around them and grabbing their clothes off the line. Louis steadies himself with deep breaths and a clear mind, and as he whispers the spell to himself, once and then twice, he’s overcome with that sense again, just _knowing_ that the baby is there and fine. He fears it’s all in his head, but it’s not. He couldn’t make up this feeling of warmth he gets. 

“It’s fine,” he says, opening his eyes. Niall is beside Maggie now, and their faces fall with relief at the same time. They both let out a quiet curse and turn to hug each other, and then Harry’s stepping around them to grab Louis’ hand and pull him close. Louis closes his eyes again as he tries to soak in the feeling of adoration Harry’s undoubtedly trying to pour into him. 

“Is everything okay with you all?” Louis whispers, even though he knows it’s pointless. They can all hear him no matter how low he drops his voice. 

“Don’t worry about us,” Harry insists. “We’re fine. I’m fine. As long as Maggie is okay, so is everyone else.”

Harry’s hands squeeze his waist, and Louis presses closer to him, his hand coming up to rest on the back of Harry’s neck. 

“Come on,” Ben says. “Let’s just go eat, okay? We should relax a little before we talk about things.”

Everyone follows immediately, even Louis instinctively pulls away from Harry to obey, but Harry’s hands tighten on his hips, keeping him still. He doesn’t let go until the door is shut behind the last person, and when he pulls away, he looks incredibly serious. 

Harry’s eyes don’t look as soft as they normally do when he’s human. They’re starting to match that sharp, confident appearance that they have when he’s a wolf. 

“I’m not just being a dick,” Harry tells him, voice so low and deep that it makes Louis squirm. “This isn’t,” he sighs. “It’s not just me, Louis.”

Louis frowns, his fingers tightening on the back of his neck. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not just me,” Harry repeats firmly. That’s all he says before he leans down and kisses Louis, soft and gentle like always. He pulls away to kiss Louis’ cheek before pulling away entirely. “Let’s just go eat, okay? Like Ben said.” 

There’s something about Harry’s words that are a clear indication that he’s not going to just sit on his hands in order to keep the peace. It’s an apology for something that he hasn’t done yet, like he knows that Louis doesn’t want anyone fighting tonight. 

“Play nice,” Louis says, and Harry doesn’t say anything as he starts to walk away. He does, however, hold his hand out behind him, and Louis sighs before taking it. Harry leads them inside, and when they enter the kitchen, everyone’s voices die down and they all stare at them. At Harry. 

Everyone except Ben. He keeps his eyes focused on the plate in front of him. 

As if Maggie’s pregnancy wasn’t enough stress on everyone. 

“The biscuits are pretty good,” Harry says. “Had one earlier.”

It’s awkward. It’s never awkward, and Louis hates it. Nick helps Harry save it, though, and then everyone’s back to talking normally amongst themselves. Things only get dicey again when Harry very purposefully sits next to Ben when they relocate to the living room. It’s like everyone holds their breath, waiting for Ben to react. All Ben does is hand him a beer out of the cooler. 

Dinner goes over smoothly. Harry isn’t even really focused on everyone else; his attention and smiles and stories stay trained on Louis. For nearly forty-five minutes, Louis can relax for the first time in two weeks and just _be_. 

When everyone finishes dinner, though, and the elephant in the room is back now that they aren’t preoccupied, that tension comes back just as strong as before. 

Gemma’s the one to say it. “We should talk, right? Make a plan?”

They all nod, everyone murmuring their own reaction to that. Harry stays silent, as do Ben and Liam, even though everyone’s looking at them. Louis clears his throat, grabs his and Harry’s plates, and sets them on the table. He’s waiting for one of them to start talking, but Maggie’s voice comes first. It’s accusatory and not at all how Louis wanted this conversation to start. 

“Harry knew something was different before anyone else,” Maggie says, and if looks could kill, Ben would be dead. “I think we should talk about _that_.”

Ben folds his hands in his lap and raises his eyebrows at her. “I agree. Your mate should have been the first to realize, no?”

“Don’t insult them,” Harry snaps, turning to glare at Ben. Louis shifts nervously beside him. “She’s allowed to be upset that her alpha didn’t recognize the signs but I did. I’m not even a fucking beta, Ben.”

“He’s right,” Ruth says with a sigh. “Ben and Liam -- those responsibilities fall on the two of you.”

Liam scoffs. “I’m supposed to know when people are pregnant now? Really?”

Ruth shrugs. “Harry did.”

“Harry thought something was off, sure, but he didn’t point-blank say Maggie was pregnant,” Liam says, in defense of himself. “And _Ben_ was the one who kept shutting him up. _I_ never did that.”

Harry leans back against the couch, shoulders far more relaxed than either Liam’s or Ben’s. He doesn’t look _smug_ , but he looks. . . Louis gets it now, is all. When Harry said that it wasn’t just him. Because so far there have been a lot of voices in favor of Harry and very few in defense of Ben or Liam. 

Harry isn’t the only one who thinks he should be the new alpha. 

“A good beta doesn’t throw their alpha under the bus the first chance they get,” Ben says, and his voice still has that cool tone to it, but he’s narrowing his eyes at Liam, who throws his hands up. 

“Well, it’s good that I’m not your beta then. I haven’t been for _months._ That’s evidently been Harry, and the only reason that you haven’t actually said it isn’t about you testing him, it’s about you not wanting him to get closer to your position than he already is. But he doesn’t need the label for all of us to see that he’s just as good of a protector of this pack as you are.”

Maggie nods. “If not more.”

“So, what?” Ben asks. “All of you want Harry, a twenty-five-year-old kid, to be your leader?”

Scott, Nick, Nicola, David and Greg all lay their loyalties with Ben. Niall, Maggie, Ruth and Gemma lay theirs with Harry. Liam doesn’t say anything. And before Ben can pretend like him being favored by one is a victory, Greg points out that Louis is part of this pack, too, and his confidence in Harry means just as much as what they all think. 

“Why are we pretending a witch as any business in this?” Scott says, shaking his head. “He even stays out of it usually because he _knows_ he doesn’t get our world. He’s Harry’s mate, and that means he’s family, but that doesn’t mean he’s part of this pack.”

Louis isn’t offended. He one-hundred percent understands that, and he was surprised when Greg said his vote counted towards anything. But the majority jumps up in defense of Louis, saying that’s not true, that being part of the family is the same thing as being part of the pack, and Harry -- Harry is glaring at Scott so intensely that it genuinely scares Louis a little bit. 

When voices start to get too loud, Ben waves his hand. “Louis is part of this pack, no matter what a few of you think,” he says sternly. “I’m sure that’s one thing Harry and I can agree on.”

Harry nods, and his jaw is clenched as tightly as it can be. His eyes still haven’t left Scott. “Yes. Thank you.”

He’s so wound up all of the sudden, so tense, that Louis hesitates to set his hand on his shoulder. As soon as he does, Harry turns and gives him a soft smile, his glare melting altogether. It helps ease Louis’ nerves. 

“So, it’s split then,” Nicola points out, a little unhelpfully. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Harry is quick to say. “Maggie is what matters. Her and her baby. We shouldn’t be talking about anything else.”

Ben nods shortly. “I agree.”

“Louis, you said your mum was a midwife?” Maggie asks, and Louis nods. “Could she. . . I mean. I don’t know.”

Louis gives her a warm smile. “She can stay here, if you want. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. She’d want to help.”

“But we’re wolves ninety-nine percent of the time,” Gemma says. “A midwife won’t help all that much. We need a real, like, veterinarian or something. Someone who can handle our anatomy, and someone who. . . who could be of help if something went wrong.”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong,” Niall snaps, his arm curling around Maggie’s waist protectively. Maggie hushes him. 

“She’s right. You could find a vet, right? Someone we can trust.”

Louis nods. “Yes. I could try.”

“I don’t want someone else knowing where we are,” Ben says, and before he can even finish, Harry is scoffing at him. 

“Don’t tell Maggie how to take care of her child.”

“That’s not what I was doing.”

“It’s her decision,” Harry says, a tone of finality in his voice. And it works, because nobody else argues. _Ben_ doesn’t argue. 

“I’d like to know what exactly is inside of her, anyway,” Ruth says. “If we get a better idea of what to expect, then we can prepare for it.”

Harry nods. “I agree.”

“So do I,” Louis says. 

Others murmur their assent, and despite it not being a unanimous decision with David and Ben on the opposing side, it doesn’t matter. Majority rules, and all that. Besides, Harry was right: it’s Maggie’s decision. 

-

The rest of the night is a little tense, but not unbearably so. Nobody wants to ruin their night on petty bullshit between Harry and Ben, and while everyone remains wary about Maggie, that can’t be helped. 

They have another bonfire, since nobody is in the mood to go swimming tonight. The music fills the quiet, as does Niall and Maggie’s quiet chatter and Gemma tapping away on her phone and Harry carving his wood. He’s sitting in Louis’ lap despite Louis’ legs going numb, and he’s concentrating hard on his work. Louis watches him intently as he runs his fingers through his hair, even though Harry told him it was going to make him fall asleep. 

The fire is bright in the center, as is the moon above them. Nobody comments on either, because the uncertainties surrounding them are suffocating. Every which way they look, there’s another unanswered question, another untreated fear. It’s much easier to find questions than it is to find answers. 

-

Over the next month, Louis stays busy. He has to, to make sure everything is in order. 

First, he starts with the easiest thing first: getting his mum to come to the cabin. It’s even easier than he expects, too. He barely gets the words out before his mum is agreeing to stay at the cabin, as if it’s a no-brainer. He tries to get her to think through it more -- What about his siblings? And her job? And her life? -- but she just keeps saying that she hasn’t spent time with Louis in almost two and a half years, and she’d never pass up an opportunity to do that. 

So, Louis goes to London. 

Harry tries to get him to stay. Throws a fit over it, basically. He doesn’t want Maggie left alone, and he doesn’t want Louis going to _London,_ and he doesn’t want Louis away from him, either. Harry doesn’t have to be able to speak to get his point across. But Louis isn’t going to make his mother drive five hours to him, and he also has to find a vet who will help them. He figures a city vet might be better prepared to handle some. . . unusual requests. It turns out that his mum’s friend’s friend is a vet, too, and while that’s great, he isn’t going to just blindly trust that she’s the right fit for this. When it reaches the time for it, she’ll have to stay with them at the cabin, too, prepared to deliver a life from a wolf, and that life might be human. Louis wants to meet the person he’s asking the pack to trust before he commits to anything. Before she sees where the cabin is, where his family is. Harry just has to deal with that. 

He doesn’t say that, of course. Instead, he pets Harry and promises to be careful. He says he’ll only be gone for a day, maybe two. Several times, he tells Harry he loves him, because maybe going to London _is_ dangerous. He doesn’t know if he’ll get hassled for being a wolf-siding witch or not. It doesn’t matter if he does, though. He’s going to London, and he’s going to come back to Windermere lake, and nothing is going to change that. 

He leaves for London on a Monday morning, at seven o’clock sharp. Car rides are always heinously boring, which is why he always made Harry drive and keep him company. He’s on his own for this, though. For five whole hours, it’s just him, the radio, and his fears knocking around his brain. 

It’s not a nice trip, but when he drives into the city, it’s entirely worth it. 

The city is gorgeous, even in the daytime. He’s not in the nicest of areas yet, and it doesn’t even matter. He loves this city. This is _his_ city. Was, anyway. It was always supposed to be his home. He was supposed to have a family here with Harry, and some stupid witch had to go and ruin that. _Vampires_ had to go and ruin that. It’s so fucking unfair, and driving through the city that he was chased out of makes his anger burn fiercer than it maybe ever has before. 

Before he heads to his mum’s, he drives past his old shop. It’s a frozen yogurt shop, by the looks of it. He’d go in, but he feels like that’s an unnecessary risk. He doesn’t like frozen yogurt much, anyway, and he’d probably be pissed at what they have done with the place. 

His shop isn’t the only one that’s been replaced, he notices. It's only but just over two years since he left, but London is a competitive place. It was never uncommon for new places moving into old ones often. The bakery with the bad scones is gone, though. He’s bummed. He has a feeling that Harry actually quite liked those scones. 

When Louis pulls into his mum’s driveway, he’s barely gotten on foot out of the door before his sisters all burst from the house, one after the other. He laughs as he attempts to return all of the affection, but there’s a deep hurt buried under it because _fuck,_ these are his sisters and he hasn’t seen them in two years. Daisy and Phoebe have grown up so much, and he doesn’t even want to _see_ what Doris and Ernie look like now. 

It takes five minutes for them to let him go so they can head back inside. It doesn’t do him much good, because then his mum and the two littlest ones are on him, and his mum hugs him so hard that it knocks the breath out of him. 

“How’s Harry, baby?” is the first thing she asks, which makes him squeeze her harder because she gets it. She understands why he has to be away. 

“He’s okay. Feisty lately, but fine. How’s everyone here?”

She kisses the top of his head. “Lovely.”

“Not lovely,” Phoebe says with a pout. “You’re stealing Mum.”

“I am,” he admits. He gives her an apologetic smile and pulls away from his mum. “Just for a handful of months, okay? And she can visit. But she’s needed somewhere else right now, Pheebs. Dan will watch over you fine.”

Lottie leans against the doorframe next to Fizzy. “Maggie and Niall are idiots,” she says. “Haven’t they ever heard of a condom?” It earns her a slap from Fizzy and a disappointed sound from Louis. 

“Hey, I don’t think you’re thinking right when you can properly be with the love of your life one night a month. I’m sure they feel like idiots enough already.”

Harry and Louis haven’t used a condom in the entire time they’ve been at the cabin. It wasn’t even discussed. Feeling guilty for not having the same repercussions as Maggie and Niall do is stupid, although he feels bad for it anyway. Maggie might _die_ from the pregnancy or birth. It’s why Harry and Louis never even considered going out to the dock the other night. It feels selfish. 

Louis barely has time to catch up with everyone before his mum is practically pushing him out the door. She says it’s because she’s set a meeting with Beth, the veterinarian, for an hour from now and it’s a decent drive, but Louis knows her better than that. She’s worried that the wrong people will hear he’s in London and have a problem with it. Since he can’t know for sure that won’t happen, he says goodbye to his siblings and leaves, his mum’s bags on his shoulders. 

Getting his mum on board was the easy part. Getting a veterinarian on board to drive five hours away to meet a pregnant supernatural being is definitely the hard part. It’d be easier if she knew about the supernatural, but she doesn’t. 

“What if she says no?” Louis asks worriedly as he drives. 

“Then we’ll find another vet. She’s not the only one, Louis.”

“But your friend can vouch for Beth. We don’t have any other connection to another vet.”

Jay says and pulls out an envelope from her bag. “Well, I brought bribe money, so hopefully that sweetens the deal.”

Louis laughs, and it’s only a little hysterical. 

-

Beth is a kind fifty-eight-year-old lady who won’t even let them get a word in until they’re done with her tour of the animals she has at the clinic right now. Mostly cats and dogs, a few rodents. No werewolves, he thinks bitterly. 

Jay starts off slowly, going a roundabout way to find answers. Beth tells them that she’s worked on all sizes of dogs before, and she’s handled more than a few dozen pregnancies. When his mum asks if she’s ever worked on a wolf before, Beth laughs, confused, and says once during university she got to sit in and watch a dead wolf be dissected for science purposes. 

It’s not exactly ideal, but it’s what they have. 

“Beth,” Jay says with that polite laugh of hers. “Have you. . . heard of the city’s rumors? About, uh, the supernatural?”

No, she hasn’t, apparently. She has no idea. So, when Louis gets sick of all the side-stepping, he cuts to the chase by making a pen float off her desk. It absolutely freaks her out, and she plucks it out of the air with a red-face and shaking hands. 

“How did you do that?” she demands, looking horrified. She stares at the pen in her hands like it’s going to come alive. 

“I’m a witch,” he says, ignoring his mum’s attempts to get him to slow down. “I’m a witch, and my boyfriend’s a werewolf, and our friend who is also a werewolf is pregnant and needs someone to help her through her pregnancy. We -- ”

“Louis,” Jay interrupts, holding her hand up. She looks embarrassed, a bit. “Why don’t you go wait in the car? I think Beth needs a second.”

Louis sighs and takes a step back. “Okay,” he relents. “Let me know if I need to make her forget the last half hour ever happened.”

He’s half-joking, half-not. He could do that if he really wanted to, but the chances of it working perfectly and not fucking with her memory forever are slim. He wouldn’t do that unless he really had to. 

When he gets to the car and sits all by himself, the radio now being blocked out as background noise since he’s been in the car all day, he maybe regrets how he told Beth. Since he’s part of the supernatural world, he’s never really considered how it would be hard to learn about. To have your reality shattered like that. All he did was make a pen float, though. He didn’t spin his head around or something. And since his mum sent him out, he didn’t really have to deal with the consequences, so he supposes it doesn’t matter that much. 

He’s tapping his hands on the steering wheel, idly thinking about all the times Harry annoyingly shouted Shania Twain lyrics at him, when his mum comes out of the clinic. His shoulders sag in defeat when he notices she’s alone, and he sighs quietly as he unlocks the car. 

“She said no?” he asks with a frown when she sets. Jay’s not frowning, though. In fact, he would says she’s grinning. 

“Oh, no, she’s definitely in. She just had to grab her equipment and call the other vet in to look after the animals.”

Louis grins, too. 

-

The car ride back is much more pleasant. He’s not driving, first of all. Second of all, his mum is here with him. Actually _with him,_ not just a voice over the phone. Seeing her was like seeing London: he knew he missed them, but fuck, does it hurt so much worse when he actually saw it up close. 

Beth’s driving herself, following them all the way to Windermere lake with five grand stuffed in her purse. It’s only half the money Jay brought as a bribing tool, but apparently Beth said yes before she had to even get to the bribery part of the pitch. She’s freaked out, his mum says, but she also refused to miss out on an opportunity to treat a _werewolf_. Louis’ massively appreciative of her cooperation, and of her ultrasound equipment that she has in her trunk, even if it’s a little bit more old-school. 

Since it’s a five-hour drive, Louis has plenty of time to catch her up and for her to catch him up on her life, too. He tells her about Maggie and the cabin and the lake, and she tells him about Lottie’s weird fashion choices and Daisy’s crush and Doris’ dancing class. They talk for so long that it starts to feel like Louis never really missed out on any of it. 

They’re an hour away before Louis decides that he should clue her in on the power struggle between Harry and Ben. Liam’s taken himself out of the equation, and that mixed with Harry taking in stride the fact that the others see him fit to be the alpha -- Louis’ slightly worried what he’s going to find when he gets back home. 

When he tells Jay about it, all of it, she gets really quiet. Eventually, she says, “Harry? As an alpha? I can’t quite see that. He was always so. . . gentle.”

“He still is,” Louis says, thinking of his protectiveness over Maggie and the way he kisses Louis and how he deals with his sister’s constant desire to play. “But he has shown that he can definitely be mean when he wants to be. When he has to be. I think. . . I think before, he was okay with being second in command, but now that Ben missed something that Harry didn’t, it’s like he feels entitled to that position. And Harry would be a good alpha, he _would,_ just -- I don’t know. I wish he could cool it sometimes, I guess.”

Jay gives him a look. “When have wolves ever been known to ‘cool it’? Never, baby. Just let them work it out between each other.”

“But he can get overly-aggressive sometimes, Mum. Like, that time Ben snapped at me, I swear Harry could’ve ripped his head off.”

“They’re _wolves_ ,” she stresses. “Yes, they’re also human, but not most of the month. It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if they’ve tapped into their more primitive instincts now that they’ve had the opportunity to. Now that they’ve _had_ to. You’re Harry’s top priority; of course he’d put everything on the line for you.”

“I just don’t like them fighting. Especially now that Maggie’s pregnant.”

“Of course you don’t,” his mum says. “The last time there was a fight, it changed everything. You don’t want Harry to change, I get that, but he won’t. I bet if you asked him to step down, actually tell him that you don’t want to be the alpha, he would.”

Louis frowns. He’d never do that, but even if he did, he doesn’t think Harry would agree to that. He says as much, and Jay rolls her eyes. 

“Harry would move planets for you, my love. Trust me.”

And because Louis would do the same for Harry, he believes it.

-

The first thing that Louis sees when Jay pulls up to the cabin is Harry. He’s sitting right next to the spot where Louis always parks, and he stands when he sees Louis. Ignoring his mum’s questions, he gets out of the car to greet Harry. 

“Back in a day,” he says, petting the space between Harry’s ears. “Didn’t I tell you? Mum and Beth are very agreeable, I’ll have you know.”

Harry nudges his head against Louis’ hand once before moving past him to look at Beth. His gaze is sharp and filled with the uncertainty that a stranger entering his terrority brings. Beth looks bewildered, too. So does his mum. Louis doesn’t realize why, at first, and then:

“Who is he talking to?” 

Louis stares at Beth for a moment, confused by the question, before he suddenly remembers the cloaking spell. He laughs at himself, and then realizes why his mum looks so confused, too. 

“The cabin does not look like that,” he promises. “And I’m not talking to myself, I’m -- hold on. Let me go get my books so I can alter the cloaking spell. Harry, stay here. You might as well sniff-out Beth when she can’t see you so you don’t freak her out.”

Beth takes a huge step back, looking terrified. Harry’s harmless, though. He’d never hurt someone like Beth, and all he does is sniff at her a little. Louis leaves them like that to fix the spell. When he goes inside, he notices that Niall and Maggie aren’t in the living room like normal. He’s not surprised, though. They wouldn’t want to be so vulnerable with a stranger coming here. 

After he’s altered the spell so Beth and his mum can see the cabin and the pack, he knows it worked because he hears a loud shriek coming from Beth outside. He grins to himself before finding his way back to the three of them; Beth still looks frightened, but she looks equally amazed as she stares down at Harry, who’s sitting right in front of her. 

“I thought they’d be bigger,” she says breathlessly. “I thought -- werewolves, I thought -- ” she cuts herself off. She must’ve not completely understood _what_ she thought. Harry stands to retreat back to Louis’ side, and she freezes up like she’s scared of him. She doesn’t relax even the slightest until he’s next to Louis, leaning against his legs. 

“They’re harmless,” he promises. “To you, anyway. As long as you keep this a secret, they’ll treat you like a normal dog would.”

“I will, I promise,” Beth says, at the same time his mum whispers, “Don’t _threaten_ her, Louis, Jesus.”

It goes quiet, then. Harry and Beth are silently sizing each other up, Jay is admiring the view, and Louis is just. . . here, at the moment. Thinking about what happens next. He’s wondering how Maggie’s doing when Harry suddenly lifts his head and straightens up, and Louis isn’t at all surprised to see Ben approaching them, his thick black coat shiny even in the darkening sky. 

“This is Ben,” Louis says as he gets closer. “He’s the leader of the pack. Quite a dick sometimes, but surely he’ll be nice to you.”

It’s a joke, and Ben takes it as one. He nudges Louis’ legs as he walks past, and then he’s standing right in front of Beth, who is back to looking terrified. Either because Harry already checked her out or he’s just better at reading people, Ben doesn’t seem to be threatened by her in the slightest. Beth isn’t very intimidating, is she. She is, however, scared, and although Louis can’t relate to that, he needs to take some pity on the woman here to help them. 

“You can go up to the cabin and set up wherever you like,” he tells her. It takes a few seconds for a reaction to his words to settle on her face, and she nods slowly but her eyes don’t leave Ben. Ben _is_ intimidating, so Louis understands her hesitance. Thankfully, Jay steps in and guides her back to the car so they can carry the equipment into the cabin. His mum winds up doing most of the heavy-lifting since Beth is a nervous wreck, and Louis would help but he doesn’t want to leave Harry and Ben alone together. It’s probably pointless -- they’ve never stopped fighting just because he was there before and they both seem completely fine right now -- but he stays anyway. 

“London’s the same,” he says quietly as he bends down to sit on the ground. Harry moves with him, sprawling out next to him with his chin on Louis’ thigh, while Ben just sits and stares at him. “My old shop is now a frozen yogurt shop. And that place with the scones is gone. I didn’t run into any trouble, which is good, although I wasn’t there long enough to cause any trouble.”

Sometimes it’s so tiring to talk to them when they can’t respond, but since he just had a five-hour drive with someone who _can_ carry a conversation in the way he’s used to, he doesn’t mind the silence. He tells them about his sisters and stories about London from his mum, and Louis doesn’t know if they want to listen to them or not, but he keeps talking anyway. 

After about fifteen minutes, his mum comes back to tell them that Beth is all set up and ready for Maggie. Ben leaves, probably to go fetch them, while Harry sticks by Louis. He sat up when Jay neared, so she doesn’t have to bend down too much when she sticks her hand out towards him hesitantly. Immediately, Harry’s tail is wagging and he nuzzles against her hand, and Jay laughs. 

“I have missed you, you know,” she whispers to him. Her fingers are gentle as they brush over Harry’s head, his ears, his neck. “So do the girls.”

It’s difficult, watching them. They were supposed to reunite long before this, and not while Harry was still cursed, not while he was still a werewolf. The shame of not being able to find a cure burns bright inside of Louis, and he turns his head away just in time to see Maggie and Niall following Ben up to the cabin. 

“Hey, come on,” Louis says, standing up. Harry and Jay are quick to follow behind him, and once they get inside, Louis finds the three of them staring at Beth in the living room. She has the ultrasound equipment set up in the living room, ready to go, but nobody looks to be in a rush to do this. To trust her. 

“Can she just be on the couch, then?” Louis asks, trying to hurry this along. They don’t have to do this right now, since Beth will probably stay the night since it’s already dark out. He’d rather get it over with now, though. To find some answers after so long of not having any. 

Beth nods, and everyone gets into their places. 

It’s strange. Louis’ been at every single one of his mother’s doctor’s appointments when she was pregnant, with every single kid she was pregnant with. He knows the routines, the questions, the risks, the fears. He knows how these sorts of things go. At least, how they _normally_ go, because nothing about this is normal. A veterinarian performing an ultrasound on his friend who is also a werewolf in the middle of his living room is not normal. It’s hard not to view this as a human occasion, though, when it’s arguably the most precious human experience, because there’s almost as many humans here as there are wolves. 

That turns out to be false, the humans balancing out the scale, when the ultrasound shows that that’s definitely no pup inside of Maggie. 

A pin dropping would sound like a bomb going off after Beth slowly explains that the fetus is in fact human. She sounds just as shocked as they all feel. Beside him, his mum whispers, “Oh, Christ,” and Harry hangs his head in sorrow. Because sure, the argument could be made that having a pup would be difficult when they finally get over this curse, but that dilemma would arise in the future. Way farther into the future than the risks of Maggie, a wolf, carrying a _baby_ will play out in. 

Louis’ done some research over the past few weeks. Wolves are pregnant about a third of the time humans are, and they give birth to a pup about eight ounces, a million times smaller than a normal, healthy baby. 

This just doesn’t end well. A miracle would have to happen, and they rarely ever do. Maggie could die, or the baby, or both, it’s. . .

Beth clears her throat. “She’s, um. I’d guess, um. . .fifteen, sixteen weeks along. About four months.” Her eyes find Jay’s, and they look terrified again, this time because of an actual threat. “We could, um. Talk. About alternate situations.”

Louis’ mind can’t even think about it because immediately, Niall is barking and Maggie’s squirming out from under the tool pressed to her belly. They didn’t even talk about that before. Abortion. It didn’t even cross Louis’ mind; Maggie and Niall have been scared this entire time, but they’ve never said they wanted to put a stop to it. And she’s four _months,_ Christ, but Maggie could _die_ , they both could die, and --

He shuts that idea down in his head with a screeching halt. Maggie and Niall, who are now both on the couch and licking at each other, whimpering softly, just made it very clear that it wasn’t an option. 

“When’s the next time they’re human?” Beth asks. She seems to be the only capable of finding words. 

“The full moon. Like, four weeks from now.”

He cringes at that. That means she’ll be around five months pregnant already. He’s never wished for time to slow down on days that weren’t the full moon, but he couldn’t think of anything better than having a little extra time right now. 

“I can come back,” Beth says. “Check her out then. And -- and maybe me and her could have a one-on-one talk about the situation. About the risks, and the,” she lets out a long sigh. “And the possibility of inducing an early labor. I don’t think a wolf could carry an eight, nine-pound baby. It wouldn’t be safe. For either of them.”

She keeps talking, but Louis drowns her out. He lowers himself to a crouch, and immediately, Harry turns to set his head against Louis’ chest. Louis pets him gently, so gently, because he knows just how powerless he’s feeling right now. How everyone’s feeling. 

“We should give them some space,” his mum says, sometime later. Louis and Harry pull themselves off the ground, and Louis hesitates. He wants nothing more than to drown in his blankets right now with Harry in bed, but that feels selfish. So, he walks with Harry out to the dock while his mum goes to the kitchen. Ben disappears into the woods quickly. 

Neither of them do or say anything. There’s no point in any of that. Words will fall flat and action won’t be enough. The only thing that is making this any less scary is Harry’s head on his lap, a familiar and comforting weight. 

It’s pitch black now, the only light coming from the moon and its reflection, so Gemma and Greg approaching them would have scared the shit out of Louis if it wasn’t for Harry’s warning. He lifts his head, his ears pulled back, and Louis turns. It only takes a few seconds for him to see Gemma and Greg’s bright eyes. Harry stands and leaves his side to be with his sister, and there’s a few seconds of quiet whimpers that Louis turns away from. 

“She’s pregnant with a baby,” he says, voice flat, because even though he knows they deserve to hear the words said out loud, that doesn’t mean he wants to be the one to deliver the news. “She’s about four months along now. But the baby’s okay, and so is she.” _For now,_ he absolutely does not tack on. 

-

The next ultrasound is a lot more like what Louis’ familiar with, except there’s a lot more people. 

Everyone’s surrounding the couch, huddled together as humans as they wait for Beth to get a good image of the baby. The five-month-old baby growing inside of Maggie. Like this, when she’s human with her round, expanding belly, this whole thing feels a lot less terrifying and a lot more amazing. The risks are harder to remember when her and Niall look so goddamn happy. 

When Beth finally gets the right position and points out the baby, everyone jumps and shouts and Maggie lets out the most beautiful laugh Louis’ ever heard. Harry’s clinging to him from behind, and he squeezes Louis’ waist so hard that he can’t breathe for a second. The shouting has only momentarily stopped when Beth tells them it’s a girl, and then it gets so loud that Louis can’t hear or breathe or do anything else but clutch onto Harry’s hands and laugh. 

The feeling is a little more hysterical, a little more desperate, than it’d normally be, but Louis tries not to dwell on that. He tries to focus on the right now, on the tonight, because tonight, if he squints just enough, all he can see is his beautiful boyfriend, his mother hugging his soon-to-be sister-in-law, and a happy, glowing couple in front of him. The future can wait. 

-

Louis has gotten to know defeat pretty well in the last two and a half years. It settled in the day they realized the curse wasn’t just a one-night warning, and it’s made home in his body every day since. The defeat he feels now, though, with the curse and no leads and Maggie’s pregnancy -- it’s all-consuming. The only times he’s felt secure since they learned she was pregnant are on full moons, but those are few and far between. In the days between, in all that empty space, defeat devours him. The only thing that makes him feel better is his mum being here with him now. 

One morning, in the rare moment that Harry, Niall and Maggie go back to the woods to be with their pack for a little while, Louis manages to wait until their tails disappear into the trees to cry. He doesn’t cry often, so it’s long overdue, and his mum is on him in an instant. 

“Oh, Lou,” she keeps saying. “Louis, love. Everything’s going to be fine.”

And because it’s been suffocating him ever since his own mum got here, Louis cries out, “Harry hasn’t even seen his mum in two and a half years because I can’t figure out how to reverse the curse and -- ”

“Hey, no,” she interrupts. “Anne wouldn’t want to see her kids stuck like this, I know she wouldn’t. It’s. . . it’s taken a lot longer to solve this than we thought it would, but that’s not your fault. Nobody blames you. The vampires probably got the most powerful witch in the world to do the spell, honey, you can’t beat yourself up for not knowing how to fix this.”

Crying feels good. It feels really, really good. Leaning over the kitchen sink in front of the window, his mum’s hands on his back, and crying feels better than anything has in a long time. So, he’s only a little upset by the fact that Harry is sniffing at him only a few seconds later. He knew Harry would probably hear him and come back for him, but there was nowhere else in the cabin he could go to quiet his cries, so he ignored it. And now Harry’s here, and the tears are already going away, hiding themselves from Harry. 

“I’m fine,” he says, pulling away from his mum to bend down in front of Harry. He groans quietly when Harry licks at his face, but he doesn’t push him away, doesn’t even think of doing that. Louis scratches his fingers across Harry’s neck and sighs, the energy that short cry expelled from him already catching up to him. 

“At least you still have each other, loves,” Jay says behind them. And even though some days that doesn’t seem to be enough, he knows it’s all he really needs. 

It’s a rough start to the month, and it’s a warning more than anything, because day after day, it’s getting harder and harder not to give in to the fear. What if he never finds a solution to the curse? He calls around Ireland for that Sean O'Sullivan guy, just to see if anyone knows where his belongings were sent, and he doesn’t get any calls back. And what if Maggie dies? Or what if the baby does? Or what if both of them survive, and the baby girl just has to learn to only see her parents as humans once a month for the rest of their lives?

How come the only what if’s he can think of are all miserable and devastatingly sad?

It’s even more tiring to feel so upset all the time for the reason that he _can’t_. There’s a pregnant wolf not too far from him at all times that doesn’t need any more stress, and his mum is always around, and so is Harry. Jay sleeps next to Louis in bed since it’s big enough, and since Maggie’s far into her pregnancy, Harry doesn’t go back into the woods at night. He curls up at the end of the bed by their feet, and as much as Louis adores having him around and prays that he doesn’t go back into the woods all day once Maggie gives birth, it’s exhausting not ever having a moment alone to _think_. 

The one time in the entire month that he’s ever truly alone is when he drives out to the grocery store to stock the fridge and pick up some foods that Beth said would be good for Maggie. And there, he’s staring at different brands of milk; it wouldn’t be the best place to have a cry, now, would it?

Louis is exhausted and scared and in desperate need of some alone time, but still, the night of the full moon manages to make him happier than he has been in ages. It always comes with an adrenaline rush, one that makes him feel high, almost, and there’s no safer place in this world than in Harry’s arms. It’s cheesy, but it’s true. 

Beth comes over again, because they’ve made an agreement with her that she’ll come every full moon up until the sixth month -- _now_ \-- and from there she’ll stay with them. It might seem too early, but they don’t want to take any chances. Yet another person in the cabin, but Louis won’t complain because Maggie is _pregnant_ pregnant. She needs a doctor looking after him twenty-four/seven, especially because Harry whispers to him that she’s not doing so hot some days as a wolf. Now, as a human, she’s radiant, but Louis hasn’t been blind to the days where she barely gets off the couch and just looks. . . faded. 

“I don’t want to talk about that, though,” Harry says, shaking his head. They’re in the kitchen, just the two of them, and Louis is tucked against Harry’s chest. “Just want to talk about happy things.”

Louis bites back a smile. “Want to hear possibly good news, then? It’s probably nothing, but it could be something, and it’ll get me out of the house.”

Harry’s arms tighten around him. “What?”

Two days ago, after a horribly defeating month, Louis got a call from a receptionist from one of the many, many offices he called that handle wills in Ireland. She said that she had some time to dig around, and after some searching, she found that the contents of Sean O'Sullivan's storage locker was never put into the will and were left untouched. She started talking to him about the technicalities of getting access to it, but Louis already tuned her out. He’s a _witch._ A wave of the hand is the only key he needs. 

When he tells Harry, there’s not an immediate response so Louis pulls back to see Harry’s face, and he’s met with a pout. 

“Maybe I don’t want you going to Ireland,” he mumbles, sounding like a petulant child. “I quite like following you around all day, you know.”

“This could be a good thing, Harry. For all of us.”

“I know,” Harry relents. “I know, I do. And you can go, obviously, but maybe this should be your last trip before Maggie gives birth. You know, in case. . . in case anything happens. A little bit of magic might help some of our problems.”

Louis frowns, the pressure on his shoulders growing. “I can’t save her with magic. Either of them.”

“Of course not,” Harry says quickly, frowning back at him. He squeezes Louis’ waist. “But you have those, like, healing potions and stuff, right? For tiny injuries, sure, but maybe they can help her or the baby. I don’t know.”

“No, yeah. I’ll be here, of course I will be.”

He leans back against Harry’s chest, and Harry wraps his arms around him in a tight bear-hug. As the seconds pass and Harry’s hold doesn’t loosen, Louis swears he can actually _feel_ the tension leaving his body. 

Until David comes wandering into the kitchen in search of more beer and makes gagging noises as he does. Harry whips a towel at him, and it _hurts,_ judging by the noise of it flying across the room and hitting David’s arm, but all David does is cackle and scurry off again. 

“We should probably see what Maggie’s doing, anyway,” Harry says, tugging on Louis’ hips to guide him to the living room. They weren’t supposed to disappear for as long as they did, but they got lost in each other and Louis doesn’t feel bad for it at all. 

When they get back, there’s an aggressive card game going on and his mother is talking so much shit that Louis’ stomach hurts with laughing so much in the first five minutes. Maggie is curled up on the couch with Niall, the two of them just watching the chaos unfold. Usually, the couch is squished with too many people, but mostly everyone is sitting on the floor or the chairs to give the couple their space. Ben’s the only one that sits next to them on the couch, a looming, protective force near them. 

Harry sits right in front of them on the floor, making room for himself there, but Louis chooses to believe that has nothing to do with Ben and everything to do with his desire to protect Maggie. 

In the hours they have together, Louis stays under Harry’s arm almost the entire time. Through every card game, for every bit of shit talking, for every beer and through every song, Louis is leaned against Harry and Harry’s arm is curled around him. It’s giving Louis the motivation he needs to get through the next month, to make it through his trip to Ireland where he’ll probably just get another dead end. 

For the first time in maybe ever, Louis doesn’t feel blindingly sad when Harry goes outside to shift in privacy. There’s no reason for it, either. He’s disappointed, yes, and he wishes they could’ve had more time together, but he’s not so achingly sad that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Niall and Maggie didn’t bother going outside this time, and judging by the noises of the shift that he tries to block out, he knows when Harry’s going to come back inside. And when he does, Louis smiles and walks over to scratch his head. 

“Ireland’s going to bring something good, Harry,” Louis whispers to him. “I can feel it.” It’s probably just him dying to get out of the house and have some time to himself, but still. He’ll let himself believe that a storage unit in Ireland will bring himself something good just like he’s going to let himself latch onto this rare, good feeling that he feels tonight. 

“Come on, love,” he says, patting Harry’s back. “Let’s get to bed.”

-

Sean O'Sullivan packed so much clutter into his storage locker that when Louis does a bit of subtle magic to unlock it and slides open the door, he almost wants to pull the door back down and leave just from the sight of it all. This is probably going to be a dead-end, anyway. Does he really want to spend all day here? But then he thinks of Harry and Maggie, and with a long sigh, he picks up the first box. 

He was a collector. Of everything, it seems like. Baseball cards and coins and golf clubs. Poker chips and buttons and ties. It starts to become a game to Louis; he picks up a box, shakes it around, guesses what’s inside and opens it to see if he was right. He always guesses it’ll be more buttons, for some reason, and it never is. 

At one point, while he’s sifting through a box of old chess pieces, a worker walks past and greets him. It’s just a small wave of acknowledgement, but it still gets Louis to concentrate. He’s not supposed to be here, and it might not be all that hard to figure that out. So, he doubles his efforts and stops messing around. 

He was a builder, too, it seems like. There’s a lot of tools here. There’s a whole box of sanded-down wood, for some reason, and it’s the only thing that Louis sets aside so he can take it back home with him. Harry carves so many little figurines that he goes through wood like crazy. Did, anyway. Whatever. 

The journals are in the back of the storage unit. Like, the back of the back of the back. There’s only one box of them, and they’re on the bottom of a stack of boxes tucked into the back corner. When Louis opens the box and catches sight of a leather-bound journal, he knows this is what he was looking for. 

“Alright, Sean,” he murmurs to himself as he sits down on a box. “Let’s see what you had to say.”

There are six journals altogether, all completely filled with messy, rushed handwriting. Louis speed-reads through all of them until he gets to the last, because that’s the only one that’s written about the last five or so years. He reads this one slower, making sure he doesn’t miss anything that could be important. 

He doesn’t. There’s nothing important in it. There is, however, some stuff that makes this trip not a complete waste of time, even if this information isn’t all that useful. 

Apparently, this didn’t just start out of nowhere. Not according to Sean, anyway. He writes in-depth about some sort of council London had that made decisions for the city. There were four vampires, four wolves, four witches and four humans. There was equality. And then a vampire named Devon LaBlanc died under “mysterious circumstances’ (his head was cut off and hung outside of his girlfriend’s house). The vampire’s seat was supposed to have been filled, that’s how that sort of thing went, apparently, and there was a 12-3 vote that said that the spot would remain empty, and the vampires would be down one representative. 

Someone betrayed the vampires first. And no, that doesn’t excuse what they did, but Louis can understand how it would feel to have everyone against you for no reason. 

Things were tense for a while, and then a witch mysteriously died. She was poisoned by her own signature potion. Louis had actually heard of this one, and her death was about a year prior to the curse. She was a well-known figure among the witches. Jolene Black was not someone to fuck with, and neither was her coven. They tried to recruit Louis once, and Louis sincerely thought they were going to hex him for turning them down. 

_My insider told me what was going to happen before it happened. Four months after LaBlanc and four days after Black, Matthew Carter, 64, human, was shot with his son’s rifle. It left everyone with one less seat, except for the wolves. Everybody gave them the benefit of the doubt until four months passed by and all of the wolves remained unharmed._

From there, Sean’s handwriting gets more rushed, like he didn’t have time to write everything down as it was happening. Louis understands why as he reads it. It’s one hit after another, dead body after dead body, threats echoed by louder ones. By the time Louis gets to a month before the curse, six more people from the council have died, and none of them were wolves except for one who supposedly died in defense of one of the council’s humans. That sounds incredibly suspicious, even to someone like Louis who has a positive bias towards the wolves in this situation. 

Sean, though. Sean swears up and down they’ve been set up. 

_It doesn’t make any sense. Wolves have been committed to keeping the peace for hundreds of years. Ever since the war between the wolves and vampires in the 1700s, the war that the wolves WON, they haven’t fought over anything. They’ve been passive to a fault on the council, they’ve let their own people die for the sake of avoiding a war, they’ve taught their young how to control their temper and how to be kind for ages. They haven’t raised soldiers. They weren’t prepared for a fight, so why would they start something that would be literally impossible for them to finish?_

Louis tries to think that through. Before the curse, Harry was by far the kindest person Louis has ever met. He still is, even if he’s darkening slightly. Gemma is feisty, sure, but she’s still a sweetheart deep down. All of them are. For Louis’ pack, at least, he could believe that they were raised to be intentionally docile. But _all_ werewolves? Louis’ not sure he buys that. Wolves are notorious for their temper, for their stubbornness. Hell, Marie opened the door with a _shotgun_.

Except maybe that’s unfair, because every single werewolf Louis has personally met, except maybe Marie, hasn’t done anything to live up to that stereotype. They’re not any more temperamental than any other witch, any other vampire, any other human. And Sean was definitely right in saying that the wolves had no chance to win that war. 

_Someone’s targeting the wolves. I just don’t know why or who or how this will all end._

Louis laughs sadly at that. He knows the end all too well. 

He reads further, and things just continue to get messier and messier. None of it really sticks out to him as useful, though, up until he catches a name he recognizes: Zayn Malik and the Hadid sisters. 

_Zayn Malik, age unknown, vampire. He’s in the middle of this somehow, I just know he is. There’s been documentation of his ruthlessness that dates back to the early 1900s. Someone like him would want to be part of a war. Not against the wolves, though. No, that doesn’t make any sense. Zayn hasn’t been seen without Gigi Hadid, mid-twenties, werewolf, in years. He, Gigi and Bella Hadid, late-twenties, werewolf, think they’re royalty. They probably wouldn’t start the war, or stick around to see it finish, but they’d definitely have fun running around and causing trouble. Their motives don’t make sense here, though. But they’re important._

The second to last entry is committed to Zayn and the Hadids. 

_Zayn Malik has killed his twenty-ninth victim since the curse. He’s bloodthirsty. The new council is having trouble quieting the news. There’s only so much hush money that they can shell out. Zayn Malik is a problem for everyone right about now, and he’s not going to stop until he finds out how to help his girlfriend and her pack. He’s not going to stop, not until someone listens._

_Zayn Malik is going to single-handedly stain the streets of London red until he gets what he wants._

The last entry is underwhelming. It’s Sean talking about some vampire rumors floating around in America. Louis tries paying attention to it, but he can’t get those words out of his head. 

Harry was right when he said to leave that pack alone. Zayn clearly takes a much more aggressive stance in his role as his pack’s protector. Undoubtedly, he’s killed more since Sean wrote last. It’s likely that he’s grown more desperate as of late, too. As the months keep stacking up on each other. Louis thinks of his sisters, of his mum, of Harry’s mum, who’s all alone at home, and it makes him sick. They can’t be safe, not if Zayn is out there as reckless as Sean wrote about. 

There are three things Louis takes home with him: a box of wood, Sean’s journals, and the relief that he never did go chasing after Zayn Malik. 

-

Perhaps only a desperate man would call yesterday a win, but since he’s almost certain there’s never been a man as desperate as him, he’ll take it. 

The following day, he takes his win and all the glory that comes with it back to the lake with him. He’s energized in a way that he hasn’t been in a while as he finally sheds some of that gross, thick layer of defeat and failure off of him. This won’t fix absolutely anything, but part of his win is knowing that if Zayn Malik is doing everything in his power to fix this means that Louis can take the day off. 

When he hits gravel road, he’s about ten miles out and he turns the radio off. It’s night time, there are little to no lights out here, and any sort of animal could come popping across the road at any second. He needs every bit of concentration that he’s capable of after driving for so long. 

He’s lost track of time and miles when he hears it. At first, he thinks he’s hallucinating or something, but no, he’s not. He’s heard the pack howl before, and it’s never sounded anything like what he’s hearing now. With his heart hammering in his chest, he presses down on the gas harder and, stupidly and incredibly riskily, he takes his eyes off the road to dig around on the passenger’s seat floor to find his phone that dropped about three or so hours ago. 

Seven missed calls from Mum.

_Shit._

He clicks call back and drives faster than he’s ever dared to drive down these roads before, especially in the dark. As he nears, the howls get clearer, telling him what he already knows: those cries belong to his pack. 

“Louis,” his mum answers with. “Louis, dear, when are you getting back?”

“Like, five minutes, I think? I don’t know, it’s too fucking dark, but -- I can hear them howling, what’s -- it’s not Maggie, is it, the baby’s -- ”

“It’s Ben,” she says, and while Louis is so fucking relieved to hear that it’s not Maggie or the baby, that nails his next fear: _Harry._ He’s never thought the worst of Harry, but what if -- what if something happened? What if Harry got fucking pissed and did something stupid to stake his claim? What if --

“What’s wrong with Ben?”

“He got caught in a trap, like a hunting trap, I don’t -- Beth says she thinks it was supposed to catch a bear or something, but it’s -- he’s,” she hesitates. “He’s going to live, we’re pretty sure, okay, it’s -- it’s bad, but it’s not terrible and Beth is about forty-percent positive she can save his leg, but it’s -- whatever’s going out there doesn’t sound good, Louis.”

So many things race through his head. First of all, he hasn’t seen a bear out here in a long, long time. Despite the pack being cloaked, their howls and noises and scents do carry, and they’ve pretty much warned everyone that this is _their_ territory. And _hunters?_ They haven’t been around in. . . he doesn’t even know how long. And how did nobody smell a new scent hanging around? And why did his mum think telling him that Ben having a _forty-percent shot at saving his leg_ was a good thing? 

All of those come and go quickly. The one thought that sticks is: _what the hell could be going on outside?_

“What’s _happening?_ ” he snaps, stressed. 

“I don’t know, Louis. They’re all howling. They’re all -- it’s not good, I don’t think. They’re in the woods, and it’s pitch black, but I can hear -- fighting. I can hear fighting. Yelping and barks and -- I don’t _know_ , Louis, fighting noises.” She’s breathless, and Louis’ hand strangles the steering wheel. “And I know you don’t need to hear me say it, Louis, but if the alpha being currently wounded started that fight, you have to know that your boy is involved.”

Over the panic and fear, Louis tries to think rationally. They won’t kill each other. Harry wouldn’t kill anybody, let alone someone apart of his pack, and it’s -- Liam’s probably the other one, and Liam wouldn’t kill Harry. He can say with full confidence that they wouldn’t purposely kill each other. _Purposely_. Wolves are strong, wolves have sharp teeth, and Harry and Liam and everybody in the pack for that matter have never quite seemed to understand their strength. It’s their first fight as wolves, as far as Louis knows, and he wouldn’t be shocked if an accident were to happen. 

“You can’t go out there,” Jay says, and Louis scoffs. 

“I’m going out there.”

“You can’t.”

“It’s _Harry_.”

“They’re _wolves_ ,” she shouts. “They are fighting a vicious fight over a position in the pack, Louis. Whether you like it or not, they’ve all gone a little wild on us. They could _hurt_ you. _Any_ of them. Not all of them like you as much as Harry does, and if you get in the way of this, baby, it’s -- just don’t. It’s pitch black, this has nothing to do with you, and it isn’t worth getting hurt over.”

Louis pulls up to his parking spot and kills the engine. “I have a flashlight.” He grabs the flashlight out of the bag he has in the back and tries not to let the snapping and the whimpers and the howls he can hear with the engine off cloud his head. 

“If he doesn’t hear you coming, if you distract him, he could get seriously hurt.”

Louis shakes his head as he opens the car door. He slams it shut as he says, “He knows I’m here, Mum. He can hear me coming from a mile away.”

He hangs up on her, then, and starts his walk to the woods. 

Logic is important here. He’s not completely ignoring that. He’s used that logic to try and figure out if the noises sound far away enough to just kill this whole thing now by giving them all a headache the size of Saturn without hurting Maggie in the process. The yelp he hears -- Liam or Harry? He can’t tell -- tells him that they’re closer than he’d like them to be. He won’t do anything to put Maggie in danger, fuck, but --

Just as he reaches the edge of the woods, an irritated bark comes from behind him. He turns, half-hoping to see Harry, and it’s Niall. His blue eyes and icy coat stick out in the dark, and he doesn’t look happy. 

“They could kill each other,” Louis tells him with a heaving chest. “You know it, too. If Harry dies, if either of them die -- you’ll all lose each other. This pack can’t function with you all _killing_ each other.” 

Niall huffs loudly, and after a quick shake of his head, he walks ahead of Louis. 

Someone agreeing with him has never felt worse before. 

He follows Niall the best he can, although he’s walking fast and it’s dark and Louis has started to feel a bit lightheaded. The flashlight he has a decent scope, showing him the general area around him decently well. Plus, Niall can see a lot better in the dark than he can. There shouldn’t be any more traps surprising them tonight. And if there are, well. Maybe Harry will stop fighting to come help if hears Niall or Louis get hurt. 

The gravity of the situation doesn’t completely settle in until he can physically _feel_ the howls in his chest, the vibration so strong that it’s terrifying. They can’t need to walk too much farther because the noises sound _so fucking close_ that Louis’ surprised it’s not right in front of him. 

As they rush forward, Louis is picturing Liam on top of Harry and Harry bleeding out beneath him, yet that’s not the scenario he can completely believe. He blames it on adrenaline, because he’s running, he’s running so fast, and he nearly bumps into someone because he can’t see straight, and it’s --

He raises the flashlight, and the green eyes that stare back at him could only be described as _ruthless_. 

It’s too much to take in all at once. His eyes keep darting between Harry and Liam, but he doesn’t stare long enough to get a clear picture of the scene yet. Niall barking like a fucking madman doesn’t help, either, and Harry’s _stare,_ the way he’s _looking_ at him -- it’s horrifying. It’s like he’s acknowledging what he’s done while also not apologizing for it at all. There’s no remorse. 

At least, at first. Because after a minute or so, after Louis’ lost his balance and is holding onto a tree for support, Harry finally drops his gaze and looks down at Liam. For the first time, Louis fully sees what’s in front of him, and it’s something out of his nightmares. 

Harry leans down to sniff at Liam, who isn’t making a sound, although Louis can see his wide, blinking eyes and his stomach moving up and down shallowly. It’d probably hurt to breathe too fast with the bite wound on his side, just under his rib cage. There’s blood around the wound, around Liam’s mouth, around Harry’s, too. Louis’ eyes angrily dart to Harry, who’s now sniffing gently at Liam’s wound, but he notices the way Harry isn’t putting any pressure on his back left leg and there’s a bite mark on his neck. His _neck._ It doesn’t look as bad as Liam’s does, but what the _fuck_.

Louis’ frozen in place. So is everyone else, it seems like. The only one who’s moving is Harry, and as the seconds collect, he looks more and more panicked. 

He licks at Liam’s face, and then he hunches down to rest his face against Liam’s neck. A few seconds pass, and Harry lets out a sharp bark, closer to a whimper more than anything. He sniffs him intensely, and when he gets to the worst wound on Liam’s stomach, Harry presses his nose near it, nudging Liam a bit. Another weak bark, and then Harry’s whimpering and whining and nudging at Liam, teetering nervously on his three good legs. 

He’s realizing what he’s done.

Liam doesn’t move until Harry starts to show obvious signs of panic. As soon as Harry’s whimpers turn to small, constant noises too sad and broken to be a whimper or whine, Liam slowly lifts his head up from the ground. He’s on his side, so he extends a leg in front of him to support him sitting up slightly. Harry’s on him in a second, and when he goes to lick Liam’s face, Liam flinches. Louis realizes, then, maybe along with everyone else, that Liam wasn’t too hurt to sit up, he was waiting for Harry to give him a sign that he wouldn’t immediately put him back down if he did. 

Still, Louis’ frozen. He doesn’t know what to do or how to figure any of this out. The pressure is put on him, though, of course it is, because Harry whips his head up to look at him, and he starts yelping again, hurried little sounds that sound more like _help_ than any word could. Louis lurches forward, pulled forward by the sound, and Ruth and Nicola part so he can get to the center. The rest of the pack has surrounded Liam and Harry like vultures, like _wild animals,_ and Ruth and Nicola, Liam’s _sisters,_ haven’t even moved from this spot. They won’t until Harry makes it crystal clear that they can. 

This isn’t the same pack that Louis came to the cabin with, and it won’t ever be the same again. 

“Okay,” Louis says breathlessly. “Okay, okay, this is -- okay. Okay. Okay.”

He bends down to set his hand on Liam’s forehead, and he can’t tell if it’s hotter than normal. His nose is dry, though, and Louis’ pretty sure that isn’t good. Harry licks at his hand, and Louis yanks his hand away instinctively. Harry’s eyes are big and wide, sad, and he takes a small step back as Louis scrubs away the blood he left on the back of his hand. 

This isn’t about Harry, though. This is about making sure Liam isn’t going to fucking die. So, Louis takes a deep breath and focuses all of his attention back on Liam. 

“Can you walk?” he asks. And then, “If you can walk to the cabin so Beth can help you, that’d be great. If you can’t, I can go get my spellbook and find a spell that lessens physical pain so you can, okay? But I don’t want to leave any of you if I don’t have to.”

It takes Liam a solid minute to even try. When he does try to stand, all of his limbs immediately give out at the same time and he’s back down on the ground. In the brief second he was vertical, Louis saw the quick _drip drip drip_ of blood from his belly, so he takes off his jacket and quickly ties it around Liam the best he can. 

As he does, Harry lets out tiny, scared whimpers. He takes a few hurried steps back, his front few constantly shifting, and Gemma is quick to come to her brother's side. Louis only watches her comfort him for a second before he looks back down at Liam. 

“Okay,” he says. “I want you to try one more time for me, okay? Don’t do it if it’s too much, but if you can, please try.”

This time, when Liam tries to stand, Louis holds his underarms to provide some stability of his front legs while Gemma and Harry immediately come to either side of him, taking some of the burden of his weight. Liam leans more of his weight onto Gemma than he does Harry, and Louis carefully lets go of him and gets out of the way so Liam can try to take a step forward. 

He does, and then another and another and another. He’s breathing hard, though. The pain must be too much. From what Louis can see, his legs aren’t injured; it’s the Harry-sized _bite_ on his belly exploding with pain every time he moves even a muscle. 

“Stop if it’s too hard,” Louis tells him. “Seriously. I can just go get my spellbook.”

He doesn’t mention that he’s terrified of getting Liam a painkiller, because if Liam can’t properly communicate how much pain he’s in because he can’t even tell himself, then he could be closer to death than any of them realize. 

Fortunately, Liam keeps on forward. They have to stop sometimes, and when Harry really starts to limp his spot is taken by Niall, but they make it to the cabin. Somehow, Liam finds just enough strength to get to the cabin’s porch where, like a puppet’s strings have been cut, he collapses onto the ground. 

Everyone’s making some sort of panicked noise, but Harry’s barking is by far the loudest. Louis hurriedly steps around them and gets inside, where his mum and Beth are huddled together in the corner, looking terrified. 

Maggie’s on the couch, looking worried and weak. Ben is in the middle of the living room floor, the coffee table moved, and he’s sedated. There’s a blood-soaked bandage around his hind leg, and Louis won’t let himself look at it long enough to see if part of it has been amputated. 

“Liam’s hurt,” Louis says. “He needs -- help. He needs help. He has a bite on his stomach, and it’s -- it’s pretty bad, and Harry has one on his neck, too, I don’t -- I don’t know how bad it is, but it’s -- Liam for sure needs your help, _right_ now.”

Beth charges forward, determined to do her job, but his mum holds her back. 

“Is it safe?” she asks. “Is everyone calmed down? Because I will not let Beth get hurt, and I especially won’t let Harry be the one to hurt her.”

“Liam’s _dying_ ,” he snaps, motioning to the door. “Beth, _go_. You’re fine.”

She obeys, but once she’s behind Louis and grabbing the door, Louis finds himself following closely after her, terrified that Harry’s going to get territorial. 

Beth is on Liam in a second, and Jay is already bringing her supplies. Thankfully, she already has the things necessary for sedation and painkillers and stitches. She has things she brought to save _Maggie’s_ life, and now they’re being used to save Ben and Liam’s. 

Again, Louis whips his head around to find Harry, and he’s charged with anger. The second he finds Harry, though, the anger disappears. 

Harry’s at the very edge of the porch, as far away from everyone as he can get, and Gemma’s licking at his lower back fiercely. Harry’s laid down with his belly to the ground, his limbs close to his body, and Louis steps forward, confused. He saw the wound on Harry’s neck and that he was limping, so why is Gemma focusing her efforts on his back?

Harry might’ve won the battle, but Liam got _two_ bites in, not just the one. 

This one is worse than the one on his neck. _Way_ worse. Louis can’t decide if it’s worse than the bite Liam has or not, but he does know that Liam’s is in a worse spot. He thinks. Maybe. He doesn’t really know. All he knows is that he was angry at Harry before because he thought that it was safe to be, because he thought he only had to fear for Liam and Ben, and now he’s not so sure of that anymore. 

“Harry,” he says, fear creeping into his tone. He drops to his knee in front of him and Harry looks up at him with round, sad eyes, and Louis curses quietly. “Shit. Okay, just, it’s -- I’m not mad. I’m not mad at you, alright, so just -- ”

He looks over to the blur of wolves to find Beth and Jay. Beth is doing something, Louis can’t tell what, but his mum looks free so he calls out to her. Tries to, anyway. His voice dies in his throat, and he blindly reaches to tug on Harry’s ears like he does when he’s nervous, and his hand grazes the bloody flesh on his neck. The wetness of it makes his stomach roll as he yanks his hand away and apologizes profusely. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m -- Mum,” he tries again, turning to face her direction. His voice is weak, but it catches Scott’s attention. He glances over, almost disinterestedly, and something catches his eyes. He doesn’t know if it’s Gemma’s frantic licking or Harry’s posture or Louis’ face, but whatever it is, he cautiously comes over. His movements are slow, and when Harry lifts his head up to see who is coming, Scott immediately backs away, scared. 

“Can we stop with this fucking shit?” Louis snaps, desperation and anger clashing at once. “He’s _Harry_. He’s not a threat, he’s not going to fucking kill you for -- just, God, fuck.” He calls out for his mum again, voice nearly shrill, and he finally catches her attention. She’s over in an instant, and as soon as she’s close, Louis just breaks down crying because he finally felt good for once and he came home to three mangled wolves and Maggie’s still pregnant and Beth might run out of supplies, and fucking shit, he’s pretty sure he could handle anything but Harry being injured is too much. It’s just too fucking much. 

Jay eyes the wound and within seconds she calls Beth over, saying she’ll pick up where Beth is at with Liam’s stitches. And then Beth is there, asking what’s wrong, and Louis’ pretty sure he yells at her because just fucking _look,_ but he can’t even remember it if it actually happened or not a second after he’s pretty sure he did it. 

Harry licks his hand, and there’s blood on his tongue that gets all over Louis’ skin. Louis doesn’t pull away from the touch this time; instead, he leans down to press his forehead against Harry’s and holds onto his arm. 

“You’re a fucking dumbass,” Louis whispers tearfully, and then, because he’s terrified Harry might not get through this, “I’m not mad, though. Never mad, not at you. I love you, okay?”

“He’s not going to die,” he hears Beth say. She sounds confident, and Louis can almost trust her. “He’ll be down for a short while, and that’s it. It’s. . . not great, but he’ll be fine. Better off than Liam, I’d say.”

Harry whines pitifully at that, and Louis shushes him. 

“I’m serious, Louis,” Beth continues. “Out of the four of them, I’d say Harry’s at the bottom of the list of my concerns. This wound is bad, but it’s survivable. It’s not in an important area, either. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Louis glances up to thank her, and when he does, he notices that everyone except Liam’s sisters have come to surround them. To surround _Harry_. Their new alpha.

Just for a second, Louis can feel that anger start to spark again. 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked it! leave a comment if you feel like it please :D
> 
> twitter: bravestylesao3  
> tumblr: bravestylesao3
> 
> next part coming out feb 2nd!


	3. chapter three

-

Two hours later, Louis’ in the bathroom scrubbing his hands free of blood for the third time tonight. Things were mostly settled down -- as settled down as they could have been, anyway -- until Ben woke and panicked. Because Louis’ the person that he’s the most familiar with, he was the one to calm him down and explain to him that his leg hasn’t been amputated, but it’s very, very broken. Beth wants to take him to her clinic to properly fix it, or at least try to, although Louis left that part out. Ben calmed down after a few minutes, and when Louis moved away from his head to change his bandage, he must’ve caught sight of Harry, who was and still is barely moving on the couch, and he sat up way faster than he should’ve, alarmed. 

“He’s fine,” Louis told him, and it wasn’t very convincing because Harry was staring back at them with these blank eyes. Ben whined and tried to stand, tried to get closer to investigate it himself, but Louis stopped him with calming hands. “Hey, hey, no. Lay down. He’s okay. He’s fine.”

When Louis left the room, Ben was back lying down, but his eyes were glued onto Harry. 

As Louis washes up, he tries to undo the knot of nerves in his stomach. Everyone’s stable. Liam’s still outside because he refused to walk again; the three of them tried to coax him into it, and quickly stopped once Ruth started growling at them. Louis brought him a blanket, though, and some food and water, and he told him sternly to call for him if he needed everything. Beth has been going outside about every fifteen minutes to check on him. 

Everyone’s healthy, but everything’s not fine. Because Harry’s been despondent for a while now, Maggie’s stress levels were far too high this evening, Liam’s wound is going to be a bitch to heal, and Harry’s the new alpha. The new fucking _alpha_. Louis doesn’t know what he was thinking or why he wanted that responsibility on his shoulders. It leaves an icky feeling in Louis’ belly to know that the fucking _minute_ Ben was out of commission, Harry was _right_ there to claim his spot. He fought for this tooth and nail, and Louis hasn’t the least bit clue as to why. 

Just yesterday, Louis was in Ireland, digging through a dead man’s journals and bringing Harry back a box of wood. All that feels so stupid now. 

After making sure his hands are clean, he dries them off and leaves the bathroom. He heads straight for Harry. He finds that Ben has disobeyed orders and seemingly dragged himself the foot he needed to get to Harry, and now their snouts are pressed together, their heads tilted towards one another. 

“You are all going to be terrible patients,” Louis says with a sigh as he sits down next to Ben on the ground. When he touches Harry’s head, he doesn’t get any sort of reaction out of him. It makes Louis terribly sad, and he doesn’t have any idea what to do about it. 

-

He falls asleep there, leaned against the couch with his hand against Harry. When he wakes, it’s daylight out, his back is beyond sore, and Harry’s licking at the bandage on his back. The best he can from this angle, anyway. It doesn’t seem like he can quite reach it. 

“Hey, stop,” Louis says tiredly, sitting up. “Leave it alone. And you shouldn’t be moving your head too much because of your neck.”

Harry ignores him, and Louis sighs. “Come on, Harry. Seriously. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He grabs Harry’s snout from the bottom, gently, and Harry is out of his touch in an instant. And Louis doesn’t have time to be sad before he’s confused, because then Harry’s struggling to stand on the couch, his injured leg not making it easy on him. 

“Stop it,” he demands. “Harry, stop, seriously, you have _stitches,_ you could -- ”

His heart nearly stops when Harry sort of just throws himself at the ground. Louis jumps to his feet, and Ben startles awake near him. Harry’s slowly getting his good legs underneath him when Beth and Jay come out from the kitchen, drawn by the commotion. 

“Hey, he can’t be up and walking,” Beth says, like Louis doesn’t _know_ that. Harry ignores everyone, and the way he limps to the front door is . . . Louis’ never seen him like this before. Ever. He can hardly walk, his limbs are shaking, he’s breathing heavily; all the signs of intense pain are there, and he’s completely ignoring it. Louis watches him, devastated, until Harry pushes the door open with his head. 

“Harry,” he says, following him outside. 

As soon as Harry gets outside, he drops himself beside Liam. Liam is awake, and he lifts his head, so Harry inches forward to place his head underneath Liam’s. Liam sets his chin on his forehead. Louis’ heart is already aching, and when Harry starts to let out these little whines, the noises make him feel physically ill. This is too much. It’s all too fucking much. 

He quiets down when Liam starts to lick his head, and although Louis’ happy he’s no longer crying out, the hurt doesn’t lessen any. Harry is injured by the hands of his family, and his family is hurt by the hands of him. They _bit_ each other. They know what it feels like to have their teeth burrowed _inside of each other_. The psychological impact of that will be inside of them forever, just like those scars buried into their skin will be. 

Louis sits down next to the door. Harry doesn’t need his comfort right now, he needs Liam’s, but Louis won’t leave his side. Not again. 

About ten minutes later, Jay comes out with lunch for everyone. She gives Louis and Harry a sandwich, Harry’s cut into four while Louis’ is whole, and brings some soup for Liam in a broad bowl. She brings out water, too, and Louis thanks her before she goes back inside. 

Louis picks up his sandwich. Liam moves from Harry to start licking at his soup. Harry just lays there, looking miserable. At first, Louis doesn’t push him on it. He waits at least five minutes, but when Harry doesn’t make any move for his food, Louis asks him to please eat. He doesn’t even acknowledge that Louis spoke. 

“Harry,” Louis tries, scooting closer to them. He sets his hand on Harry’s back. “Babe, come on. Eat something. Please. You need to stay strong.” Nothing. “I can make you soup if you’d rather. Like Liam.” Again, nothing. Not even so much as a glance. 

Louis tells himself not to worry, that maybe Harry’s feeling sick and just isn’t hungry. He went through several different kinds of trauma last night; him not having an appetite isn’t surprising. So, Louis ignores that tug in his stomach and continues on with petting Harry. 

A few hours later, Louis and his mum are talking quietly on the porch steps. Not about anything serious, but about the weather and the lake and Maggie. She and Niall have taken over Louis’ bed, which is fine by him. He can find somewhere else to sleep. Liam and Harry stay resting behind them the entire time, up until Liam randomly finds the energy in him to stand. 

Jay and Louis turn out as soon as they hear someone stand, and when they see that it’s Liam, they get up to try and steady him. He’s a bit shaky on his feet, and he favors his front legs, but slowly and carefully, he gets himself inside. It’s okay that he immediately lays back down by the door, because he managed to get there in the first place. His sisters are on him in an instant, while Gemma picks her head up from the floor and stares curiously at Louis. 

She’s probably wondering where Harry is, and when Louis turns to look back towards the porch, he sees Harry hobbling towards the woods. He’s not made it very far, and he probably _can’t,_ but Louis wastes no time in getting to him. 

“Love,” he says, shaking his head. Harry can barely walk; after he puts one foot forward, there’s a long pause, then the next, then another pause. His back leg is badly broken, Beth said, and now he’s trying to walk on it all the way out to the woods. “All you’re doing is hurting yourself worse.”

Harry doesn’t stop. 

“Harry. Please. The longer you rest, the quicker you’ll heal. And you’ll heal best at the cabin, okay? You can go rest with Liam and Gems.” 

Harry yelps with the next step forward, and he halts to aggressively lick his front right paw. There’s blood on it, Louis realizes, and he bends down to see better. A closer look shows him a clean slice across the pads of his paw, and it’s bleeding. 

“I’ll go get Beth,” Louis says, standing, and Harry does the exact opposite. He reignites his effort to walk, putting that injured paw down first. 

“You’ll get an infection doing that,” Louis snaps. “Harry, listen to me. Please. You’re not strong enough to fight off an infection on top of your injuries, okay, so just -- ”

He gets distracted by Gemma walking towards them. She brushes past Louis’ legs to get to her brother, and she stands directly in front of him, blocking his path. Harry huffs and tries to go around her, but she’s quicker than him. Frustrated, Harry growls at her, and Louis startles at the noise. He takes a step back, and then another when Gemma growls right back at him. Harry’s the first to bark, and his sounds a lot more threatening than Gemma’s, which might have something to do with last night’s events. Everything Harry does seems a bit scarier now that Louis knows what he’s capable of. 

In an instant, the rest of the pack is filing out the cabin and surrounding the three of them to watch. Everyone looks tired, anxious, confused. Everyone except Gemma and Harry, who are glaring at each other with such intense anger that Louis’ surprised that either of them can muster it after last night. 

They stare at each other for a few minutes, neither of them wavering, until Gemma suddenly steps to the side to let Harry pass. 

“What?” Louis says, confused. “He can’t go into the woods. He won’t even make it, Gemma.”

Harry takes the strongest step forward he has all day, and then another. He makes it three, maybe four, more steps before his limbs give out on him all at once, and he drops to the ground. Gemma lays down beside him, and Louis gets it now. She knew this was going to happen. There was no point in fighting Harry over something he physically can’t do anyway. 

“You can go,” Louis says, waving everyone off. “Come on. Go check on Maggie or Liam or Ben or something. I think he wants to be left alone.”

Everyone leaves, just as fast as they came, and Louis sighs down at Harry. He doesn’t know what to do with him, and he doesn’t know why he wants to be away from everyone so badly. Harry must hate the fact he only got two or three feet away from the porch, though. He tried so hard to get much farther.

“I’m going to go get Beth to look at your foot, okay?” Louis tells him. “But Harry, I swear to God, if you hurt her or threaten to, I don’t -- just don’t, you hear me? I mean it.”

Maybe getting Beth isn’t the best idea. Harry is moody and lashing out, and he doesn’t know Beth. He wouldn’t think twice about snapping at her with the mood he’s in. But that cut needs to be taken a look at. It should’ve been wrapped up already. 

When Beth bends down in front of Harry with her kit, Harry lifts his head up so fast that Louis grabs the fur on the uninjured side of his neck, ready to hold him back if he tries to bite. He doesn’t, though. He just stares at Beth, who slowly explains that she’s going to take a look at his paw. 

“It must’ve been from the trap,” she says as she examines the cut. This morning, some blurry details got filled in by his mum and Beth. Harry’s the one who got to Ben, who tried his hardest to help. “It’s not too deep. Needs to be cleaned, though, that’s for sure. Can I clean it for you, Harry?”

Harry keeps his stare intimidating and cold for about a minute before he lifts his paw and sets it back into her hand, a nonverbal _yes_. Finally somewhat relaxed, Louis lets go of Harry’s fur and kisses the top of his head. Fifty percent of him knows that Harry would never hurt her, and the other fifty percent of him knows that he could. 

Louis’ not going to feel okay until the next full moon, which is still three weeks out. He’s going to be confused and upset for three _weeks_ until he finally gets some clarity on the situation. Maybe Liam’s the one who started the fight. Maybe Ben gave him his blessing to step up to be the leader. Maybe something happened last night that doesn’t completely clash with the way Louis sees Harry. 

When Louis was younger, he was in charge of his siblings, and that got irritating fast. He usually dealt with it fine, but one morning -- coincidentally, the morning after he learned the spell -- he had enough and of his sisters’ whining and did a spell to give them all a headache so they’d shut it. It’s not just a headache, though, that spell calls for debilitating pain, which Louis obviously didn’t _know_ at the time. And he felt awful for it, and he’s never used that spell again. He’s thought about it, last night and the one time Harry got wildly protective over him, but he’s always found a reason not to. He lashed out once and learned his lesson. Learned his power. He prays that the same can be said for Harry, that last night he had a terrible lapse in judgement that won’t ever be repeated.

“Don’t walk if you don’t have to,” Beth says sternly as she wraps his foot, and Louis eyes Harry cautiously. “You stay at the cabin so I can change your dressings and so it has less of a chance of getting infected. You let us help, because that’s what we’re all here to do. And because, for whatever reason, they’re all looking at you, including Maggie, and if you stay put, so will they.”

As soon as Beth’s work is done, Harry takes a step back. Tries to, anyway, but his back left leg buckles momentarily. He whips around to chew on his leg, just above the bandage, which Louis quickly puts a stop to. 

“I know it hurts, love, but you can’t do that.”

Harry huffs quietly, keeping his head down low. 

“I want to take Ben to my clinic for a day,” Beth tells Louis, for the fourth or fifth time. “I wouldn’t mind taking him, too. His foot might be more broken than I know. X-rays could help us figure this out better.”

Louis chews on his bottom lip as he tries to think about it. It’s risky, taking them back to London, but it’d be even more of a risk taking them to any other clinic. And he wouldn’t trust Harry being alone with Ben and Beth, but he can’t leave, either. He can’t leave Maggie, and he can’t leave his mum alone here. 

“I’d like to wait to talk about it with them when we can actually have a conversation about it,” Louis tells her, just like he has every other time she’s mentioned it. Harry doesn’t make any objections known, which is odd for him, but Louis supposes his back leg must hurt so bad that he can’t think. He’s licking at it again. 

“Ben’s leg could die in three weeks,” Beth says. “Ben’s leg could be dying right now for all I know. That’s the problem, Louis, I _don’t know_. If his leg gets septic, he’s dead within hours. Right now, it’s hanging on by a thread, and I need to know if that thread is strong enough to hold on, or if it needs to be cut.”

“It’ll put you in danger,” Louis says with a shake of his head. “Bringing Ben back, the alpha of one of the packs that was chased out of London,” Harry lifts his head at that, and his eyes are dark and slightly narrowed, “is a bad idea. It’s an objectively terrible idea, Beth.”

She sighs. “You can’t expect me to sit here and accept that he might just die when I could easily save him.”

“Easy for you,” Louis argues. “Ben can’t lose his leg.”

“It’s better than losing his life.”

“It’s Ben’s call,” Louis decides, frustrated, because sometimes he doesn’t have all the right answers and nobody seems to understand that. He absolutely does not want to be the one in charge of making life-or-death decisions. He didn’t sign up for that.

“Isn’t it Harry’s now, though?” Beth asks quietly, reminding Louis that Harry _did_ sign up for that. He wanted it badly enough to fight for it, so fine. Here’s his first task as leader.

Except, no. Louis refuses to play into the idea that Harry knows what’s best for everyone. It’s Ben’s call because it’s Ben’s leg. He has a hard time believing that Harry would think anything different.

“No,” Louis says firmly. Harry’s eyes narrow, only for a moment, and then he drops his head to lick at his foot again. It’s an acceptance as good as any. Out of everyone, Louis’ probably the only person Harry wouldn’t fight with over dominance.

-

This entire time, no matter how bad things got, Louis would have said that nothing could have been worse than those first few nights. Everyone was cold and tired and hungry and scared. _Petrified._ It had been terrible, those first few weeks, where the hurt and the fear just wouldn’t let up. There have been times these past two and a half years that he thought maybe sucked worse than that, but this. . . There will never be harder, scarier days than these ones. 

For three weeks, things are eerily silent. 

That shouldn’t be possible, should it? Not with twelve wolves walking around. But there are only eight walking around, really, and one of them spends all day in bed with his mate, so seven. The uninjured ones of the pack don’t stay inside all day, but they do stay close to the cabin. Only once does Louis catch two of them goofing around together. 

Maggie and Niall rarely ever leave the bedroom, and Louis’ learned that it’s best to leave them be. He checks in on them twice a day, once when he wakes up and once before he goes to bed, but other than that, he stays away. Twice is probably still too much for Niall, who gets moody whenever anyone disturbs Maggie. 

Of the other three, Liam is probably their best patient. He stays sedentary and polite, he eats his food, he gets as much rest as he should be. His sisters are by him near-constantly, so Louis has even less of a reason to worry about him. He’s healing. He’s doing his part. 

Ben tries to not be a pain in their side, he really does, but ever since he went back to London with Beth, he’s been restless. Restlessness added with an incredibly broken but fortunately still-attached leg does not mix well, and Ben’s trying to navigate it the best he can. 

Their trip to London took a day and a half, much to Louis’ disapproval. He wanted them in and out, back within the day if they could manage it. Beth said surgery didn’t work that way, and she couldn’t discreetly carry a sedated wolf to her car now, could she? Louis was a nervous wreck the whole time; his mum kept saying that there hasn’t been any talk about violence in the city for a while, and then Louis told her all about Zayn Malik’s bloodbath, and she got quiet, too. 

They came back, though. Both of them, and with Ben’s leg still in-tact. They went into the city the second day after the fight, and now they’re only three days out from the full moon. If anybody caught wind of Ben’s presence, nobody cared enough to do anything about it. 

Maggie’s getting through the days as gracefully as she can. Ben and Liam are, too. Harry, though. . . Louis is terrified that he’ll never get him back completely. 

For the first few days, Harry stayed out on the porch, lying close to the cabin’s wooden wall, his limbs close to his body. He ignored Louis, and the only thing that could have been worse than that is if he growled at him, which was what he did to Gemma every time she tried to comfort him. He didn’t eat for three days straight, although he did lift his head to drink out of the water bowl Louis put in front of him every few hours. Louis watched him like a hawk, waiting for the moment Harry snapped out of it, and it never came. 

Jay came out to talk to Harry the third night of this. She sat with him and promised that nobody was mad at him, and everybody was worried about him. He ignored her, too, up until she said, “Harry, darling, please don’t break my son’s heart. He’s been doing everything these past two years for _you._ You need to pull through this for him.”

Harry set his chin on her knee, and Louis thought that meant something. Louis thought that was a sign that he was going to be okay again soon, that he understood her and would do his best to do that. He had even more hope for that when, the following morning, Harry stood up on shaking legs and headed the opposite direction of where he'd been using the bathroom. Louis watched from the window; he went down the stairs, turned right, and Louis thought he was heading for the lake, but then he turned again and retreated to the back of the cabin. 

Louis followed him, and he found Harry chewing furiously at his front paw. He ignored all of Louis’ efforts to get him to stop, to get him to listen, to get him to do _anything_. 

Harry hasn’t moved from his spot behind the cabin since then. He goes to the bathroom a few times a day, he drinks water, and he eats at least once, sometimes twice, a day and that’s it. He doesn’t come into the house, he doesn’t venture into the front yard at all, he doesn’t do anything except lay there. 

A week into this, Gemma tried to put her foot down and get Harry to listen to her, and it ended quite quickly after Harry surged forward to snap at her. The intent wasn’t to bite her, it was to scare her off, but still. It was wrong, and it was worrying, and Louis still doesn’t get too close now, afraid that he’s going to be the second person bitten by Harry. 

Liam -- injured, healing Liam -- went outside to check on Harry. At least, that’s what Louis thinks it was; Liam carefully walked over, conscious of his healing body, and once he was close enough to, sniffed Harry all over, stopping at the place Harry was hurt. Harry ripped off the wrap on his front paw only a few days after Beth put it on, although he had enough sense to leave the back foot alone. Thankfully, he doesn’t fight back when Louis changes the bandage on his back and neck, so that hasn’t gotten infected. 

Liam nosed at his front paw, and even though there was no way it didn’t hurt, Harry stayed perfectly still, eyes trained forward. After a few minutes of being ignored, Liam got impatient, and he started pushing his head against Harry’s shoulder. He was ignored again, up until he let out a soft whimper, at which Harry reacted immediately to. He surged towards Liam, just like he had done with Gemma, except this time, he licked at Liam’s muzzle for a few moments before putting his head back down. It was. . . something. Louis isn’t sure what it exactly meant. 

Liam stayed by his side all day. When night fell, he tried convincing Harry to follow him inside, but it didn’t work and Liam eventually gave up. And Louis was tired and cold and so fucking scared. 

“You are their _alpha_ ,” he spat. “You _asked_ for it, and you got it, so just -- so just do what you promised to do for them, Harry. You have two injured men in there and a very pregnant, very weak Maggie, and you’re out here _sulking._ You’re _sulking_.” He threw his hands up. “You fucked up. You took it too far. We all know that, and we all know you regret it. Can’t that be enough? Can’t this be _done?_ Nobody hates you, Harry. Nobody is ashamed of you. I don’t know what you’re worried about, but whatever it is, it’s not real. You have a confused, scared pack who would more than love to have you be there for them.”

Harry ignored him, but Louis could have guessed that. He didn’t, however, expect to return the next day to find Harry gone. He waited by his spot for twenty minutes before getting the feeling that he wasn’t coming back. Louis knew without needing to do a locator spell that Harry went back into the woods. 

That was four days ago, and he hasn’t come back out since. Gemma is with him the entire time, which Louis knows because now he does a locator spell every morning to make sure Harry hasn’t left the property. He hasn’t, he’s still here, he’s just making sure he’s as far from everyone else as possible. Whatever healing he had managed to do for that back leg in the past few weeks must be gone, because he walked _far_ out into the woods. So far that Louis doesn’t bother chasing after him; the full moon is coming up and he’ll just talk to Harry then. He refuses to walk a few miles to be ignored by Harry again. 

Besides, there are three people inside who need his care and are willing to accept it. He has enough on his plate as it is without worrying about Harry. He’s _worried,_ of course he is, but he’s powerless, too. 

He’s hoping that on the night of the full moon, he’ll be able to help Harry get through this. That’s his one shot. Until then, Liam’s dressing needs to be changed and Ben needs to be told to sit down for the thirtieth time today and Maggie needs a warm compress and more pillows. 

-

Even though this full moon could not be more different, Louis forces himself to go outside, hang up everyone’s clothes, help his mum cook, and, once it’s time, sit out on the front porch, waiting. Tonight, nobody goes out into the woods until only a few minutes before the change. They leave as wolves and come back as humans. As people who carry their stress in their shoulders, in their eyes, in their mouths. Louis can see the uncertainty on all of their faces. 

As everyone gets dressed, he goes inside to check on those who did not make it to the woods. Ben is sitting on the living room chair, pulling a shirt on over his head, and the bandages were shed during the shift, so his leg is on full display. Beth’s already busy getting another one wrapped on his leg, but she works slowly, giving Louis a chance to really look at it. The skin looks crumpled, almost, and the stitches have just disappeared. Poof into thin air, like they weren’t ever there at all. Fortunately, none of them are being held together that way anymore, and that shouldn’t cause an issue. 

“Does it hurt?” Louis can’t help but ask, and Ben nods. 

“Worse than it has in a while. It’s fine. Where’s Harry?”

Louis ignores him to look at Liam, who’s poking at the almost-healed wound on his stomach. His stitches are gone as well, and the red, scabbing flesh wound sticks out worse against Liam’s pale skin. The mark didn’t get bigger to fit this body, surprisingly; the same Harry-sized bite is on his stomach, and Louis wonders for the first time how Harry managed to bite him there. 

“You okay?” Louis asks. 

Liam nods without looking up from his stomach. “It’s not as big as I thought it would be. Doesn’t hurt that much.”

“Because you’ve been resting,” Jay says, coming from the kitchen with two plates of food. 

Ben scowls at her, knowing full well that was a remark against him. He turns around and pulls the curtain open, and they all look out the window to see everyone sort of just gathered together on the porch. 

“Why aren’t they coming inside?” Louis asks, already heading back to the door. 

“Because Harry’s not here,” Ben answers. Louis decides to ignore him, but sure enough, when he gets outside, everyone is there except Gemma and Harry. They all look at Louis tiredly, and Louis frowns. 

“Go inside, come on,” he says, holding open the door. They hesitate, and he shakes his head. “Come on. Seriously. The food’s done. Someone make Maggie a plate, please.”

Greg’s the first one to push forward. “I’ll do it.” He heads instead, and Nicola and Ruth are the next to follow, followed by everyone else. The only person who hesitates is David. 

“He’s out there with Gemma,” he says, a little unhelpfully. “He’s, um. The fastest way to put one of us down is for us to feel like we’ve let down our mate. He’s not sulking; he’s mourning.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows. “I told him so many times that I wasn’t mad at him.”

“Sure, but not once did I hear you say that you weren’t scared of him.”

Louis’ first instinct is to snap at David and to tell him that he doesn’t know anything. That’s pointless, though. David knows more about what Harry’s feeling than Louis could ever, because Louis’ a witch stuck in the middle of wolf business and Marie was right when she said that he didn’t belong. He’ll never leave, and he’ll never stop trying to navigate their world. He’ll never fully understand a thing about it, though. No matter how hard he tries. 

“Go inside and eat,” is all he says, and David nods, heading inside. Louis closes the door behind him, and he’s only by himself for a minute, maybe two, before he spots someone in the distance. He squints as the person steps out of the trees, and it’s Gemma. 

She heads to the clothing line, and Louis heads towards her. 

“It’s really hard having a serious conversation with your little brother when you’re both naked, did you know that?” Gemma says as she yanks a pair of sweats up over her legs. She shakes her head and pulls down a shirt, while Louis busies himself by getting clothes down for Harry. After she’s dressed, she takes the clothes from him and says, “Go get him some water, a bandage, and a blanket. Please.” She turns to leave, and then sharply turns back around. She looks desperate. “And don’t you dare be hard on him.”

“I won’t be,” he promises. 

“He thinks he’s a monster.”

“Liam hurt him, too.”

Gemma shakes her head and takes a step back. “Liam’s not the one who started it,” she says. “Do you really think any one of us would leave our stomachs exposed in the middle of a fight? None of us are that stupid. Harry didn’t even give him a warning, just went straight in for the kill-shot.”

Louis swallows. “He can hear you,” he says, pointedly ignoring how she just crushed Louis’ hope that this was all somehow Liam’s fault. 

Gemma ignores him, too. “Liam wouldn’t have even wanted to be the alpha. He was too worried about Ben.” She shakes her head and bites on her lip before turning around, heading back to the woods barefoot and with Harry’s clothes in her hands. He watches her only for a minute before he goes back inside to get everything that Gemma told him to.

Once he gets to the woods, he walks straight forward. He doesn’t know where Harry or Gemma are, and he desperately hopes they aren’t as far out as they have been the last few days, but even if they are, it’s okay. He’ll keep walking all night if he has to. If Gemma can come to the cabin every few hours to get them food, both of them far too weak to hunt, then Louis can make the trip once to try to coax Harry back. 

_He’s not sulking; he’s mourning._

David’s words echo in his head, and he tries not to dissect them. There’s nothing that Harry has lost, as far as Louis’ concerned, except for some of his humanity. Even that, though. . . that’s not something someone mourns, is it? Because if they’re capable of mourning, then they clearly haven’t lost their humanity. 

The words haunt him anyway. 

He walks for ages. His legs are burning and he’s sweating, and he’s about to sit down for a five-minute break when he hears a broken plea of, “Just leave me _alone_. I want to be alone, I’ve wanted to be alone this whole time, so just _go_.”

It sounds distant but clear, so Louis continues on forward, suddenly re-energized. 

Gemma’s the first one he spots. She’s crouched down next to a tree, her arm extended forward, and she’s looking at Harry with soft, worried eyes. Louis can’t see Harry, but he’s sure he’s either not meeting her gaze or glaring at her with every bit of fire he has in him. 

Logically, Louis knows Harry and Gemma heard him long before he got even close. He’s still startled when Gemma says, “And now Louis’ here, and you’re not even dressed. I told him you’d have clothes on by now.”

Louis intentionally doesn’t slow his pace or walk in any sort of way that would show he’s cautious about approaching them. Even if he is, Harry doesn’t need to know that. Because of it, Louis’ standing next to Gemma far earlier than he’s ready for. It seems like Harry wasn’t ready for it, either. 

He’s sat against the tree, curled in on himself with his arms around his legs and his legs pulled up to his chest. His head is bowed, his shoulders hunched forward, and Louis can’t even analyze how incredibly submissive his posture is because he notices the blood smeared across his forearm. 

“Is it your hand?” he asks. He cringes when his voice shakes, but tries to make up for it by crouching down next to him. “Let me see it. Please.”

“Look at his leg,” Gemma says. Harry pulls his legs impossibly closer to him, trying to hide the dark bruises on his left leg. It looks _awful_. His foot and ankle are swollen and red; the fracture clearly hasn’t healed at all these past three weeks. 

“I don’t even know how he hurt it,” Louis whispers, shocked. Gemma snorts. 

“Ask Ruth.”

God, there’s so much Louis still doesn’t _understand_. That night has far too many holes in it, and Louis will have someone fill in every single one of them for him before the moon’s time is up. 

“Let me clean your hand,” Louis says to Harry. The answers can wait. For now, getting Harry fed and properly dressed and cleaned up is his main concern. Harry doesn’t respond, so Gemma grabs his wrist forcefully. Harry yanks his hand away, but Gemma yanks it right back, now two hands on his forearm. 

“Stop it,” she says sternly. “Let him do it. Being stubborn isn’t worth getting an infection over.”

He doesn’t say anything, although he doesn’t fight it when Gemma turns his hand over and shows the cut to Louis. Again, it doesn’t look like it’s healed at all. It looks like it’s tried to, if the scabbing towards the end of that cut that didn’t get torn through completely is anything to go by. Louis sighs as he gets a wipe out of the pack he brought. 

“How’d you split it back open?” he asks as he starts to wipe away the blood. He starts with the skin around the cut, careful not to hurt him. 

There’s a silence, and then Gemma says, “He fell and caught himself on the tree. After the shift. We’re all a bit off-balanced at first. He didn’t do it on purpose.”

Louis nods, concentrating. On the cut in front of him, not on the fact that Harry hasn’t hugged or kissed him yet, not on the way that he’s touching Harry for the first time in a month and it feels like his hand is clutched onto a ticking time tomb. Not on anything other than the blood. 

When he’s about to clean the cut itself, he squeezes Harry’s wrist gently as a forewarning. The message must’ve been unclear, because Harry hisses in pain and tries to pull away. Not as hard as he could, though. Not like he did with Gemma. So, Louis ignores it, cleans the cut, and wraps it with a bandage a few times. Once it’s secured, Harry flexes his hand, testing it out.

“Is it fine?” he asks, sitting back on his heels. And as the first sign of life directed on Louis in almost a month, Harry nods once. “Good,” Louis breathes out, relieved. He glances at Harry’s foot and winces. “You shouldn’t be putting any weight on it. There’s no way it doesn’t hurt.”

Gemma must agree, because she pulls Harry’s leg away from him with a gentle hand under his knee. He cringes, his hand darting down to steady his calf, and Louis reaches behind him to grab the blanket he brought. He shakes it out before setting it over top of Harry, and Harry grabs the top of it and pulls it over his shoulders. 

“Dinner’s done,” Louis says, because he doesn’t know what else there is to say. “I want you to come back with us and eat something. Please.”

“It’s going to be a bitch getting him to walk that far,” Gemma says distractedly, looking around. She stands and says she’s going to go find a stick for him to use as a crutch before disappearing behind a thick tree. The way they all walk through these woods so naturally is alluring, in a weird way. 

Louis takes a deep breath and looks back to Harry. He sets his hand on top of Harry’s knee in the first intimate touch of the night. It’s not reciprocated. 

“I’m not scared of you,” Louis says firmly. There’s no point in beating around the bush if this is what it’s about. It’s the truth, anyway. Louis’ potentially scared of what Harry’s capable of now, but he’s not scared of _him_. 

Harry turns his head away from him slightly, and his jaw is clenched. This way, Louis can see the bite mark on his neck, and it doesn’t look nearly as bad as his foot and hand did. There are faint bruises lingering that peek out from the blanket, ones that make Louis frown. He aches to know what his back looks like. 

“You’re just saying that because David told you to.”

It’s nauseating, the relief that rips through his body from those words. Harry talked to him, actually communicated with him in some way that Louis understands, and it’s exactly what Louis’ been begging for weeks now. It leaves him a bit breathless as she shuffles closer. 

“I’m saying it because it’s true,” Louis denies. “And because I’d say just about anything to get you to understand that what you did was inexcusable, but it’s not -- you can come back from it. You _have_ to come back from it. Nobody thinks you’re awful. Nobody thinks you’re a monster. You just got. . . lost, a bit, but we all know who you really are. We all see how much you regret what you’ve done.”

“I could have killed him,” Harry whispers, shaking his head. “I almost feel like that’s what my _goal_ was, and that’s mad. That’s -- God. And they’re all scared of me, all of them. You. Your mum. Maggie, probably.”

Louis squeezes his knee. “That comes with the territory, no? Of being the alpha.”

“ _No_ ,” Harry snaps. He turns to look at Louis for the first time tonight, and his gaze is angry and cold. “Ben _earned_ our respect. And I -- I just tried to take it from everyone.”

“Everyone already respected you. Half of them wanted you to be the alpha last month. And isn’t that, like, the way you do it? Don’t you have to fight for that title?”

“Wild animals do,” Harry spits. “We were not supposed to end up like that. We were -- we were supposed to stay _good_ , stay a _family,_ and I just -- ”

“You just had a bad moment,” Louis interrupts, trying to sound soothing. He doesn’t necessarily think that Harry is free from guilt, because he’s definitely not. He _should_ feel guilty. He _should_ regret what he did. But none of that means Harry’s irredeemable, or that he doesn’t have a place in this pack anymore, because that’s just not true. “You had a bad moment, and now you fix it. Now you go talk to your pack and figure out where to go from here. Mags is seven months pregnant, Haz. Liam and Ben are hurt, so are you, and nobody’s known what to do with themselves without you here. This is not the time to let yourself get in the way, not when the whole pack is stressed and in need of guidance.”

Harry doesn’t respond, at first. He looks down at Louis’ hand on his knee and just doesn’t say a word. Stress lines every feature of his face, in the curve of his mouth and the crease between his eyebrows and the exhaustion in his eyes. He looks so small like this, so delicate, swallowed up by a soft green blanket, and that’s a startling observation to make when there are eleven other people here who are counting on him to be so big. 

With an urge to protect him, Louis scoots closer to him and sets his head on Harry’s shoulder. Harry tenses, and Louis waits for him to relax but it never comes. Instead, he finally responds. 

“Nicola bit my back when she was trying to pull me off of Liam,” he says, and the pain in his voice is strong. “She might be the reason why Liam didn’t die from that bite, because I had to let go to turn around and stop her. I didn’t. . . I didn’t hurt her, or anything. But when I was threatening to, that’s when Liam got up and bit my neck.” He shakes his head and stares forward. “He wasn’t fighting to be the new alpha, he was fighting in defense of himself and his sister. I was just so fucking wound up, though, I don’t -- I don’t know why, I don’t -- and then I was lunging to attack him again, and Ruth tripped me and demolished my fucking ankle. I was down from that for a minute or two, and Liam _did_ come back to finish it, he _did_ , and I still somehow managed to win. I don’t know how I had the strength, but I did. When I had Liam pinned, he didn’t try to get back up.” Harry’s eyes find his, and they’re full of tears. “And then you were there.”

Louis nods slowly, because he doesn’t know what else to do. The image of Ruth, Nicola and Liam all going in on Harry is mind-boggling and terrifying, honestly, and he has no idea how Harry managed to come out on top. Ruth and Nicola were probably trying to limit their role in the fight, but still. Harry must’ve been fighting like all hell, with every ounce of power he had in him. It’s hard to blame someone for what they did with their brain in survival-mode, but then again, Harry’s the one who attacked first. Harry attacked Liam, without warning and in the most vulnerable area he could have gone for. 

“You were scared of me,” Harry continues. “Probably still are.”

“I’m _not._ ”

“You thought I was going to bite Beth,” Harry fires back. “You thought I was going to bite _you_. And honestly, if you had pushed me hard enough, I probably fucking would’ve. It’s why I left.”

Louis doesn’t have anything to say to that. 

“I disrespected Ben by not even waiting to see if he’d survive before I went after his spot in the pack. But I -- I tried to help him.” Harry’s voice breaks. “I tried, I -- I was the one that found him, I tried, I tried to get it off of him and it wouldn’t -- it wouldn’t budge. I watched him wither in pain for fucking ever, Beth and Jay couldn’t figure out how to get it off and first, and then not even ten minutes later I went off and. . . did what I did.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It was a tense night for everybody,” Louis says, and it’s sort of a lame thing to say, but it’s all he has. 

“Yeah, and Maggie’s seven months pregnant and I scared the shit out of her, probably, and Niall had to leave her.” Harry rubs his non-injured hand over his face, and the blanket falls down to his waist. “Maggie, Niall, Ruth, Nicola, Liam, Ben, you. _Gemma._ In some way or another, I’ve hurt all of them, and the rest of them are all scared of me, too. I don’t deserve to lead this pack anymore. I think. . . I think Gemma should do it. Or Niall, I don’t know.”

“Gemma is a love, but she’d be a terrible leader,” Louis disagrees. “And Niall will be busy with the baby soon. Besides, I think it’s their call to decide if they still want you or not. Right?”

Harry just shrugs. 

“I think we should find out, no?”

Harry closes his and sets his head back against the tree. “I don’t think I could face Ben or Liam. Or your mum for that matter.”

“Liam went out and tried to talk to you, and you ignored him,” Louis reminds. “And Ben asked about you first thing. He was worried about you, too, in case you forgot. And my mum -- she doesn’t care about all of this. She’s here for Maggie, not for any of this other stuff. She loves you like her own.”

He goes quiet again. This time it only lasts about thirty seconds before he whispers, “I didn’t think you’d come find me. I thought you’d want me to stay away, so you could all have a peaceful night without me or something.”

The words hurt enough on their own, but the weight and sincerity in them hurt even worse. That’s insane. He tried to get through to Harry for days on end, up until _he_ left and went out into the woods to be alone. That fear is one he never wants Harry to have, no matter what. Louis would always, _always_ rather him around instead of being away. 

Instead of saying any of that because his throat is too hot for words, he leans forward and kisses him. It’s soft, at first, and then Harry tries to pull away but Louis keeps him close with a gentle hand pressed to his neck. He doesn’t need to pull away; he needs to know that Louis will always want him this close. 

Harry breaks away to let out a choked sob, and Louis gathers him close, pulling him against his chest and stroking his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he whispers as Harry tucks his face against Louis’ neck and cries. His good hand comes up to fist Louis’ shirt. “You’re okay, love. Everything’s fine.”

He doesn’t cry for long, and Louis’ not surprised. There’s nothing he wants more than for Harry to get out his emotions properly, but asking him of that is too much right now. Harry sits up and wipes at his cheeks. 

“You’re okay,” Louis repeats. Harry sniffles. 

“My ankle hurts so goddamn much, Louis. Gemma’s had to stop me from trying to chew it off, like, ten times by now.”

“Beth can help with that,” Louis promises. “You just have to come back home.”

Harry closes his eyes briefly, and there’s so much confusion swimming around in his eyes that Louis aches for him. Not only is he questioning himself, he’s questioning his place in this family, in his humanity -- and that’s not to mention the trauma he went through that night. Seeing Ben like that, being attacked, _doing_ the attacking; that’s a lot for one person to handle, and he forced himself to do it alone.

Louis wouldn’t be surprised if he said no, so he’s beyond relieved when Harry nods. It’s a hesitant nod, but a nod nevertheless. “Yeah?” Louis asks, a smile shaping his lips. Harry’s digging his teeth into his bottom lip, not sharing the same feeling. 

“Yeah. I guess. Yes.”

“Put some clothes on then, yeah? I don’t want my mum to see your bits.”

Harry rolls his eyes as he reaches around Louis to grab the pile of clothes. He slides his shirt on no problem on his own, and Louis doesn’t even let him attempt to put his pants on without help. He ditches the underwear and decides just sweats will do and, very, very carefully, helps Harry slide them on. They manage not to hurt his leg fine, but when Harry lifts up and sets himself back down, he bumps his back against the tree bark and winces as it scratches across the healing wound there. 

“Gemma must not be having any luck at finding a stick for you,” Louis says as he stands. He brushes the dirt from his bottom and looks around, wondering if he could help support most of Harry’s wait on his own. Probably not. He’s not fit enough for that. 

Harry sighs tiredly. “She’s over there,” he says, motioning towards the trees towards the left. “So is Nick. The two of them have the loudest feet on the planet.”

There are two matching, offended _hey’s_ that come from the place Harry pointed to, and sure enough, Nick and Gemma come out from behind some trees. 

“At least I have two working feet, thanks,” Nick says with his eyes narrowed at Harry. He’s only joking, but Harry doesn’t look so certain about that. Until Nick smiles at him and says, “That’s why I came all the way out here, you know. To pick up the slack of your shit-foot. Ruth should have had to do it, if you ask me, but whatever.”

Harry’s still chewing on his lip, looking uncertain. He’s so scared that he let them all down. Even Nick, who he didn’t directly hurt. “You can be mad,” Harry says carefully. “You don’t have to forgive me because you think I’ll get mad if you don’t. I’m not like that.”

Nick makes a face. “Forgive _you?_ This is all Ben’s fault. What kind of an idiot _literally_ walks into a trap?”

Trust Nick to always hang onto his humor in a serious situation. It’s difficult for Harry to accept it, judging by his tense posture, and if Harry can’t accept Nick’s forgiveness. . . They’re going to have a rough night dealing with everyone else’s. If anyone even wants to offer theirs, that is. Louis’ not delusion; this night might end with Harry kicked to the bottom of the pack with everyone’s back turned on him.

“Come on,” Nick says, coming closer to him. He extends a hand to him, one that Harry stares at, unsure. “I said come _on_. They’re starting a game of cards soon and I’ll be pissed if I miss out on it ‘cause of your lazy ass.”

Harry takes his hand hesitantly, and when Gemma comes to offer hers, he frowns up at her. With wide eyes, he says, “I’m sorry to you, too, you know. I would never hurt you.”

“I know that,” she says, grabbing his arm roughly. “I wouldn’t have come here to be with you if I thought you would. Now come on. I’m starving.”

The process in getting Harry to his feet is a wobbly one, as are the first few steps, but once Harry gets his weight situated properly between Nick and Gemma, he seems to be doing okay. It’s a slow walk, and Harry’s face is twisted in pain and concentration the entire time. Step-by-step, though, they eventually reach the edge of the woods and the cabin stares back at them. 

Harry’s breathless by this point, and he shakes his head. “I need a break.”

“No,” Gemma denies. “We’re almost there. I’m not pulling your heavy ass off the ground again. Keep going.”

He lets out a broken noise. “Gemma -- ”

“Nope.”

Either Harry really doesn’t want to see everyone, or he genuinely needs a break. Maybe both. Either way, his knee gives out on him, and Louis panics thinking he’s about to hit the ground and royally fuck up his ankle even more, but Gemma and Nick don’t let that happen. They keep him upright and basically drag him along the rest of the way. 

Once they reach the door, Louis’ more worried about getting Harry to a chair over any of the other issues. He holds the door open for them, and once Harry’s safely inside, _finally_ , he rushes to grab a kitchen chair from the table and bring it to him. 

Harry drops to the chair immediately, panting heavily, and he clutches at his left knee. “Fucking shit,” he breathes out through clenched teeth. And because he now knows she’s the one who caused it, Louis’ eyes find Ruth, who’s pointedly staring down at her plate. So is her sister. Liam, though, is already standing up. 

“I think you look worse than I do, mate.”

Harry freezes at the sound of Liam’s voice momentarily. He looks up slowly, and when he sees Liam standing only a few feet away from him, looking relieved and okay and the opposite of angry, he curses quietly. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he says, and the end is weighted with tears. He pulls himself up off the chair, keeping himself steady with his hand on Louis’ shoulder, and Liam is right there in an instant. 

Harry’s cries are raw and full of pain. He’s exhausted and stressed and sad, and Liam is right in front of him holding him and telling him that it’s okay.

“I regret it,” Harry cries. “So much, so -- so much, Liam, I’m -- I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I’m just so sorry.”

His rambles don’t come to an end even with Liam’s assurances that he’s not mad. He tells him that over and over again, but Harry’s still so wound up. It’s going to be hard to accept forgiveness from the people he hurt when he hasn’t even forgiven himself yet. 

“I thought you were gonna die,” Harry whimpers out. His face is tucked into Liam’s shoulder while Liam’s arms are strong around his waist. “I don’t know what I would’ve done. I would’ve -- God. I thought you were gonna die, I really did.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” Liam whispers back with a small laugh. “I’m basically as good as new already. You really need to work on your technique.”

Harry’s hands tighten on his shoulders. “Don’t joke about this. Please. I could have -- ”

“But you didn’t,” Liam soothes. “You didn’t kill me. I’m right here. We both got our cheap shots in, didn’t we? We’re even.” He rubs his hand down Harry’s back soothingly. “I’m not mad, Harry. I’m really not. I definitely didn’t deserve it, but I’m okay now. I’m healed, pretty much. You know that I never hold a grudge.”

The thing is, Liam would have every right to be mad. Every single one. He was _attacked_ in a moment of vulnerability by someone he thought he could trust. Surely, Liam doesn’t have to forgive Harry, and he definitely didn't have to go so easy on him. Louis is so, so relieved he did, though, because the eye roll that Ruth and Nicola share indicates that they aren’t going to hand away their forgiveness just because Harry wants it.

“How’s your foot?” Liam asks, his hands still moving up and down Harry’s back. Harry’s hands haven’t loosened on Liam’s shoulders, either. 

“Broken as shit, I think.”

Ben laughs from where he’s sitting in the corner of the room. He has his leg propped up on the coffee table, a plate of food in his lap, and Jay is sitting beside him, looking at him rather fondly. “Not as broken as mine, mate.”

His remark officially opens Harry up to the rest of the room. A quick scan tells him that everyone’s in the living room, except for Niall, Maggie and Beth, and they’re all staring at him. It’s daunting to look at everyone, even for Louis. He doesn’t know where their heads are at. 

“It’s your fault,” Nick says again as Harry pulls away from Liam. Slowly, and not all together, because he’s using him to balance on one foot. The look he shoots Ben across the room is _so_ \-- childish, almost. Petrified. Liam’s forgiveness might be the most important to him, but Ben’s respect is vital for everyone in this room. Even if he’s not the alpha anymore -- Louis’ still not sure about who actually _is_ at this point -- he _was_ when Harry did what he did. If there’s a discussion about what happens to Harry after this, Ben’s input would be of the highest importance. 

Harry swallows thickly, his fingers curling around Liam’s arms. His face twitches, and his hands shake; there’s every indication that he’s nervous, but his eyes don’t leave Ben’s. After a silence so long that it makes Louis’ stomach hurt, Harry says, voice strong and steady, “I’m sorry, Ben. For everything.”

Ben stares back at him wordlessly. 

“I disrespected you,” Harry continues, and he licks his lips. “I disrespected everyone. I didn’t -- I didn’t do _anything_ in the way it should’ve been done. And I hurt a lot of people in the process, I know that.” His voice thins, and he pauses to fix it. “Our pack made a decision a long time ago to cope with this in a way that would keep us grounded within our human selves while not neglected our wolf-side, and I understand that I reverted back into some stupid, primitve, traditional way of thinking. And if. . . if that means we handle this in a stupid, primitve, traditional way, then I’ll understand.”

There's silence, and then Greg says, “What, like excommunication or something? Are you insane?”

Louis can’t help but agree. There’s no way Harry truly thinks a group of people like this are capable of something like that. Or maybe he does, and maybe this newly twisted, darker way of thinking runs deeper than any of them realize. 

Ben rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. Besides, that’d mean you take the witch with you, too. And we need him.”

“Thanks,” Louis says with a small scoff. “I think.”

Ben flashes a smile at him before he turns his attention back to Harry. The smile disappears quite quickly. “That way of thinking is what got us into this mess. I don’t see why we should keep going down that path.”

Abruptly, Harry sits back down on the chair, his fingers digging into Liam’s arms for support. Liam doesn’t let him go until Harry’s steadied in the chair, and once he is, he stays by him, a hand on his shoulder. Harry looks up at him, confused. 

“I really am sorry,” he says again slowly, turning back to look at everyone. “I don’t know what got into me. I was just. . . I don’t know. But I know I caused irreversible damage to our pack, and I’ll do everything in my power to fix that. If you’ll let me.”

“Your pack,” Ben says simply. 

Harry pulls back. “What?”

“You can stop calling it ‘our pack.’ It’s yours.”

Nobody looks exactly sure how to respond to that, except for Liam’s sisters. There are some quiet murmuring and some shrugs and some nods, but nobody offers a firm stance on the matter until Nicola speaks up. 

“Absolutely not,” she snaps, shaking her head. She shoots a venomous look at Harry. “He neither _killed_ my brother.”

“ _You_ bit him, too,” Gemma fires back. “Everyone’s so quick to blame Harry and Liam for what happened, but _you_ added it just as much as they did.”

Nicola looks outraged. “I was protecting my _brother_.”

“Nic,” Liam says, shaking his head. “Don’t make a decision based solely on that night. You wanted him as the alpha before.”

“ _Before_ he sunk his teeth into your stomach, yes.”

Harry crosses his arms over his chest, looking overwhelmed and small. He must have opinions of his own -- he always does -- but he’s too scared to voice them. Too scared to be anything close to what he was that night. So, he just watches Liam and Nicola fight back and forth until Ben interrupts them. 

“Enough,” he says sternly. “Harry won the title fair and square. I don’t think it has to be more complicated than that.”

Ruth’s jaw drops. “Fair? _Fair?_ Him attacking Liam without any sort of warning is _fair_ to you?”

Ben rubs his hand over his beard before shrugging. He’s playing this all so nonchalantly, something Louis can’t quite understand the thought process behind. “Liam had his warning the second I got seriously injured. Anybody with half a brain would have realized what was coming. Harry’s made it loud and clear what his motives were, and Liam painted a target on his back from the minute he started competing with him. So, yes. Liam had a warning. Liam had plenty of warning. And him not being suspecting of that, him being _so un_ suspecting that he left himself in such a vulnerable position where Harry easily got access to his stomach, well.” He shrugs again. “I think that completely takes Liam out of the running. I’m hurt, Niall’s going to be raising a kid soon and isn’t even here for this little meeting, and the only other person I’d think would be capable of running a pack is Gemma, but she’s a bit thick-headed and impulsive.” He pauses, deep in thought, before adding, “And she’s got terribly loud feet. Anybody could hear her from a mile away.”

Gemma throws her hands up, offended, Ruth and Nicola continue to glare daggers at Ben and Harry, and everybody else shifts uncomfortably. Nobody is rushing to put their two cents in, and it’s not hard to figure out why. If Harry really is going to be the next alpha, they have no idea how he’s going to run things. How unforgiving he might be. People have more than enough reasons to be wary of him after that night. 

“Harry’s hurt, too,” Ruth points out. “How is he capable of being an alpha if he can’t even bloody _walk?_ ”

Ben looks bored of this now. “Harry had three of you attacking him and he still managed to win. If that doesn’t scream capable, I don’t know what does. And, you know what, while we’re on the topic, you two should’ve known better than to get involved. Gemma stayed out of it because she’s not an idiot and doesn’t fight her brother’s battles.”

Louis’ about to object to that, but before he can, Harry does. “That’s not fair,” he says, voice only a little weak. “I probably would’ve killed Liam if Nic didn’t stop me. She had every right to defend her brother.”

Nicola looks furious that Harry’s the one defending her and not her brother. Her glare turns to Liam, who simply looks away. 

“Harry’s the only one who volunteered to be the alpha after Ben was hurt,” David says hesitantly. He doesn’t look up from his hands. “I think that in itself says leadership. Maybe his strategy was misguided, but it. . . It worked, didn’t it?”

There are some more murmurs, some more nods, more shrugs. This is not a conversation that should be had with only Harry, Ben, Ruth and Nicola’s voices. They don’t represent the whole pack. 

“I don’t imagine that Harry would be any sort of horrible leader,” Louis says, because Harry seemingly doesn’t understand that that’s what people need to hear right now. They’re _scared_ of him, of what’s to come. “He’s always been civil and kind and open-hearted. That night was awful, and it was inexcusable, but I don’t think he’s the type of man to make the same mistake twice. Nobody needs to be worried about what he might do if you voice your concerns, leader or not.” 

All eyes shift to Harry, looking for confirmation, and Harry briefly closes his eyes. When he opens them, there’s more strength in them. “This won’t work if you’re afraid of me,” he agrees. “Ben was -- he was a pain in the ass, sure, but he still had all of our respect. We followed him because we trusted him, and I don’t want it to be any different with me. I. . . I _love_ all of you. I want to _protect_ all of you. And I think I could do that, but if you don’t want to give me a chance because of what I did, I don’t think I’d blame you.”

“And if we don’t want you as our alpha?” Scott asks. “What, we just try to gut you the minute you have your back turned?”

Harry flinches and quickly smooths it over. “I’d hope not. I hope you’d talk to me about it before it got to any gutting.”

“Plus you’d have a hard time doing that with a witch in his corner,” Louis says, with as much chill in his voice as possible. All Scott does is roll his eyes, so clearly it wasn’t all that intimidating. 

Gemma sighs. “Nobody can do what Harry did ever again. If anybody tries, I think we all should agree now that we’ll all team up against that person and block their efforts. No more fighting, no more biting, and no more threatening to gut my little brother.” 

“It wasn’t a threat,” Scott says mildly. “Just a hypothetical.”

“And I think, every month, we should have a little discussion like this to make sure everyone’s happy,” Gemma continues. “If we agree as a group that Harry’s not cutting it, then Harry will gracefully step down.”

Greg nods. “We have to address issues sooner. Liam and Harry being so tense with each other for so long wasn’t going to end well for anybody, and we finally saw that.”

Harry looks up at Liam at the same time Liam looks down at him. They both look guilty, and Liam pats his shoulder. 

“Do we vote, then?” Liam asks, eyes still trained on Harry’s. Harry shrugs. 

“We can vote.”

This time, the vote is 9-3, with only Scott, Nicola and Ruth as the opposing side. Niall and Maggie get their votes in, too, obviously, and Harry looks honored when Niall comes out to say that their votes easily go to Harry. 

“So, that’s that, then,” Jay says, nodding. 

Louis looks down at Harry. At the new alpha. “I guess it is.”

“Come on, Haz,” Niall says, motioning to the back room. “Maggie wants to see you. She feels safer with you around, you know.”

With Liam and Louis’ help, Harry stands. 

-

Maggie’s sitting in a chair that’s been dragged to the front of the window. Her feet rest on the trash can Louis had next to his bed, and the curtains have been pulled open, window cracked. There’s enough of a wind to make the room chilly, but Maggie doesn’t seem to mind it. Her hands lay on top of her bump delicately, her fingers moving around in circles against her shirt. 

The baby bump is round and large, and it’s maddening to think it’s only going to get rounder and larger. Since Beth and Jay have been tending to her, Louis hasn’t actually _seen_ her stomach in a while. Every time he peeks his head in, Maggie’s either under a blanket or Niall’s wrapped around her. Now, though. . . it’d be hard to see anything _aside_ from the bump. She’s definitely got a baby in there, that’s for sure. 

Niall crosses the room to reach her first, and she smiles softly at him. When she sees that he didn’t come alone, she frowns, and then, “You can’t promise to protect me and my child and then fuck off for a month, you know.”

Harry frowns, too. “I know. I’m sorry. I knew I left you in good hands, though.” He shifts a bit, and pain flashes over his face. Louis and Liam get him settled on the edge of the bed, nearest to Maggie. Louis sits next to him. 

“Did you want me to do the spell, or has Beth already done an ultrasound?” he asks, motioning to the ultrasound equipment that’s already hooked up in here. 

“She already did it,” Maggie tells him. “While all of you were arguing. I’m glad I had an excuse to miss that conversation.”

Niall snorts. “Me too. Ben’s right, you know. Liam shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was.”

“I am literally right here,” Liam says as he frowns at Niall. He doesn’t say anything about it, though, and Harry turns to give him an apologetic look. Louis’ pretty sure he’ll never stop sending those to him. 

“Baby’s good, then?” Harry asks, and right. This is what matters. 

Maggie nods, her hands flattening against her stomach. “Baby’s good.”

“So is Mum,” Niall adds. “Though she gets outrageously cranky at night.”

Harry smiles gently when Maggie hits Niall, hard, on the arm. This is what he needs to see; Maggie and Niall wanting him here, feeling comfortable around him, people willing to forget about what he did, just to share some sweet moments with him. When Maggie turns towards him and asks if he wants to touch, Harry looks equal parts elated and undeserving. 

“If it’s okay,” he says nervously. 

Maggie grabs onto Niall’s forearms to steady herself enough to stand, and immediately, Harry tells her to sit, that he can come to her. She waves him off. “Please. I think if you sat still for an entire year, that foot still wouldn’t healed right. Besides, I’m pregnant, not immobile.”

When she’s close enough to, Harry tentatively puts a hand on her stomach. The fear is almost immediately washed out by the sheer joy of knowing there’s a baby under his hand. That feeling is unlike any other. 

“She’s going to be the fourteenth member of this pack,” Maggie says softly, setting her hand on top of his. She squeezes her fingers. “Of _your_ pack. We’re counting on you, you know.”

Harry sucks in a breath and nods. “I know it, I promise. I’m going to protect you. I’m going to protect all of you.”

-

Amidst all the chaos and emotions of tonight, Louis almost forgets about his trip to Ireland entirely. They have about an hour left together, everyone’s sitting around the kitchen table with Monopoly in the middle of them all even they have no chance to finish a game, and Louis’ tucked under Harry’s arm. They’re on the same team, and when Louis rolls the dice for them, he thinks about Harry’s injured hand. About how he can’t carve anything right now because the wound is too irritated. About the wood Louis brought him. And then:

“Oh my God,” he says. “Nobody asked me about what I found in Ireland.”

Nick snorts. “Surely it wasn’t all that helpful, considering we’re still like this.”

Harry wraps his arm around Louis’ waist, but he doesn’t say anything in defense of him. He’s been overly passive all night. 

Louis shushes him before going over all of it. He tells them about the council, about the murders, about Sean’s theories. About Zayn Malik. Everyone seems a little skeptical -- how were there so many murders going on without any of them hearing about them? Who would hate the wolves enough to do that? -- but they listen intently. Once Louis runs out of things to say, Harry’s the first one to properly acknowledge any of it in a way that isn’t a question in search of clarity. 

“So, you’re going to listen to this Sean and stay away from this Zayn, correct?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “I’ve been good thus far, haven’t I? And I really don’t like how that’s the only thing you got from this story.”

Harry murmurs an apology close to his ear and kisses the back of his head. 

“I still don’t see why anybody would care enough to single-handedly cause a war on wolves,” Beth says. She was arguably the most interested the entire time. 

“Might’ve not been single-handedly,” Greg says. “Could’ve been a group of people.”

Ruth nods. “Humans always stick their noses where they don’t belong. I wouldn’t be surprised if they caught wind of all this supernatural stuff and then decided to do something about it.”

“Werewolves are by far the least offensive,” Niall argues. “If humans had a problem with the supernatural in general, they’d go after vampires. Or _witches_ , like they’ve already done before. Not just us.”

“So really all you found in Ireland is more questions,” Gemma says with a sigh, setting her hand on her chin. It’s a fair assessment, but it still makes Louis frown. They found _some_ answers. Just not any important ones. “So, so many questions.”

“At least we know more about our history, I guess,” Ben points out. “About why we were raised to a little more passive.”

“Some of us, anyway,” Nicola bites out, eyes focused on Harry. Liam tells her quietly to stop, and she rolls her eyes and takes a sip out of her beer. Louis can’t see his reaction, but he can feel him tense, can feel how he presses his hand firmer against Louis’ hip. 

“I have a question,” Nick says. “If this Zayn Malik is _so_ powerful and _so_ deadly, then how come he hasn’t managed to find any answers yet? You said your mum said that the Hadid’s mum was in town searching for answers only a few months ago. Clearly, this Zayn bloke sucks at his job.”

“He probably killed everyone who could’ve given him any answers,” Harry guesses, and, well. Maybe. 

Maggie lets out a tired sigh and leans back against her chair. “Well, I think this Zayn needs to hurry up and kill the right people so we can be done with this. He has about two months left before this baby comes. Time’s a ticking, Mr. Malik.”

-

For an entire month, things are relatively calm. There’s no fighting, no biting, no sulking. There are four cooperative, restful patients. Sort of. Liam’s been moving around a lot more, but they let that slide because his injury has nothing to do with his leg. And maybe Harry doesn’t actually listen all that much, because he doesn’t let Louis go into another room without following him, even when Louis tells him that he’ll be right back. Because of this, Louis does his best to stay in the living room for most of the day, so Harry can just lay on the couch without feeling the need to get up. Harry checks on Maggie every few hours, too, so -- alright, maybe he’s not a very good patient, but he has improved immensely compared to the last month. He’s calmer now, less wound up, something that has a lot to do with Liam. 

Liam constantly reassures and supports Harry. _Constantly_. Harry often gets restless at night, a little stressed, for some reason, and Liam always curls up with him on the couch. Nearly every morning, Louis wakes up on the couch with Liam and Harry taking up the majority of it, even when they’re tightly curled around each other. When Beth changes Harry’s bandages, Liam sits with him. When Beth makes sure that Liam’s injury is healing fine still, Harry gets fidgety and impatient, and Liam always gets him to come off it. He’s better at it than Louis is, which is -- they quite literally have had their teeth sunk into each other not too long ago, they’ve been tense with each other for a long time, and now suddenly, Liam is Harry’s greatest source of peace. It’s different, but Louis is grateful for it. 

Gemma shows her love for him by coming into the house every once in a while, purposely irritating Harry by licking him roughly or biting him or just invading his space, and then leaves. Harry always huffs and flicks his tail angrily like a cat, but Louis’ almost certain he appreciates it. 

This month is calm. It’s taking care of Harry, Ben and Liam and Maggie, when she lets him. It’s spending the morning with his mum, drinking coffee, with Harry nestled up behind his legs. It’s everyone being less stressed, less tense, and more like themselves. The whole month is peaceful, and Louis’ greatly looking forward to the full moon. He expects that to be peaceful, too. 

The night of the full moon, when everyone’s coming out of the woods to fetch their clothes, Harry’s pulling his sweats on next to him since he didn’t leave the cabin. They’re out on the porch together, and Harry’s swearing up and down that his leg doesn’t hurt as much anymore, when Niall comes bursting through the front door, looking panicked. 

“It’s Maggie,” he breathes out, panicked. “The baby -- she’s coming _now._ ”

-

The panic sets in immediately. Harry’s up in an instant, only in his sweatpants, and racing into the house after Niall like his foot isn’t screaming in pain even though Louis knows it is. He’s not focusing on that, though. That is later’s problem. For now, Maggie and that baby are the only two things that matter. 

When they get to Maggie’s room, they find that Niall wasn’t exaggerating. He wasn’t exaggerating at all. Jay and Beth are already in deep conversation with one another, both positioned between Maggie’s legs. Between a midwife and a vet, tonight should go well. Tonight _has_ to go well. There’s no other option. 

Maggie looks like a _wreck;_ her red, sweaty face is scrunched up in pain, her hands are shaking from where they’re twisting the bed sheets beneath her, and her eyes are blown wide. Niall climbs back into bed with her right away, clutching onto her hand and petting her hair, while Harry limps to the other side of her. He bends down beside her, and immediately, Maggie reaches for his hand. 

“You’re going to be fine,” everyone keeps saying to her, which, in Louis’ opinion, just reminds Maggie that there is a very big possibility that she _won’t_. A pregnant woman goes through enough changes as it is, plus she was changing species every month; that’s a lot of stress on the body. On the _baby_. 

The room fills up immediately, and when Harry asks her if it’s okay, she shouts at him that she doesn’t care and that she just wants something to make it hurt less. Which is unfortunate, because apparently she’s too far along to give her any sort of pain medication. Medically, anyways. Louis offers to bring in some magical intervention, but since he can’t promise Niall or Maggie that it won’t impact the baby in any way, they decline. 

“Mum,” Louis whispers, pulling away from Harry so he can keep his voice low. Over Maggie’s shouts, there’s a good chance nobody can hear him, even with their supernatural abilities. “Talk to me, yeah? What’s going on?”

Jay purses her lips. She doesn’t look ready for this. Neither does Beth. “She’s going to start pushing here soon,” she says. “And we’ll go from there.”

“Does everything look normal, though?” Harry asks, which makes Niall shoot a pleading looking over to Jay and Beth. 

“Yes,” Jay says quickly. “Yes, I promise. Everything looks normal, from what we can see.”

Harry and Niall both let out a sigh of relief before looking back at Maggie. “See, Mags?” Harry whispers. Louis can’t even imagine the chaos going on in his head, with him being the new alpha and everything. This is a big deal, and it has the potential to go terribly wrong. It’ll be Harry’s first real test as an alpha if it does. “Everything’s fine. The pup’s going to be just fine.”

“Shut up,” Maggie says flatly, though she gives him a tired smile. “This thing is not a pup. It would’ve been over ages ago if it was a pup.” Her face contorts in pain, and then, “Oh, _fuck._ ”

Niall’s hand shakes as he strokes through her hair. “You’ve got this. Both of you.”

Maggie nods bravely. 

A few minutes pass, and after a particularly loud scream from Maggie, Louis’ about to ask when she has to start pushing. Before he can, though, he watches Beth and Jay share a nod. 

“Maggie, love,” Beth says, patting her knee. “You can start pushing now.”

Louis thinks she’ll be too scared too, or that she’ll be hesitant. She’s not, though. Maggie obeys as soon as possible, and the scream she lets out makes _Louis’_ ears ache. He can’t imagine everyone else’s. Louis can’t watch her anymore, so his eyes fall to Niall, and he looks far too scared. His eyes move to Harry next, to his hand wrapped around Maggie’s, to the blood dripping down his hand from Maggie’s fingers digging into his skin. Harry doesn’t even seem to notice it, far too worried about the bigger issues. 

The screams don’t stop from there. They get louder and longer, and it leaves Louis feeling nauseated. After a while, he can’t bear to look at anything anymore, so he turns his head into Harry’s shoulder and hopes that he can be of any use at all tonight. 

After a while, Maggie’s efforts start to die down. She’s too tired, and when Louis checks the clock, he sees that it’s been exactly sixty-seven minutes since she started pushing, so he understands why. She can’t stop, though. She can’t. 

“Maggie,” Jay tries. “We have to keep going. I promise, dear, you’re so close.”

Maggie just weeps, turning her head to face Niall. He bends down to press a kiss to her forehead, and Harry reaches forward to brush the sweat-slick hair out of her face. 

Beth squeezes her ankle. “You have to keep trying.”

“We know it’s hard,” Niall adds. “We know it hurts. But you have to keep going. You can keep going, right?”

“But what if I _can’t?_ ” she sobs, and Harry winces as her fingernails dig deeper into her skin. He doesn’t dare push her off, though. 

“Our baby needs you to, sweetheart,” Niall whispers, looking guilty for it. A minute or two after, Maggie finds the energy to keep pushing. Everyone in the room tells her how good of a job she’s doing, then, because she probably needs to hear it right now. 

Forty-nine minutes pass and Jay and Beth are getting visibly worried when there’s a sigh of relief, and then: “Yes, Maggie, yes, she’s coming.”

“Stop being stubborn, little one,” Jay whispers. To Maggie, she says, “One more big push, maybe two, come on, sweetie.”

It takes three pushes, in the end, and they seem to take everything Maggie has left, but it was worth it because all of the sudden his mum is holding a fresh, pink, wailing baby. Louis quickly hands her the towel, which she uses to pat the baby clean. 

“Jesus Christ, Mags,” Niall blurts out, staring down at the baby in disbelief. “She’s finally fucking here.”

Maggie lets out a big sigh and falls back into the pillows. “Took her fucking long enough.”

Harry lets out a wet laugh. There are tears in his eyes, which are shining with adoration for the little baby that Jay is taking care of at the moment. The baby’s fussing incessantly, as all babies do. 

“Alright, Dad,” Beth says. “Cut the umbilical cord, come on.”

“Don’t mess up,” Nick calls out, and Maggie tiredly flips him off. 

The whole cord-cutting business has always made Louis queasy, so he focuses on Harry, who’s watching it like it’s not insanely disgusting. He looks mesmerized, almost, and he reaches over to set his hand on Maggie’s head, his fingers carding through her hair, when Niall moves from her side. 

“I want to hold her,” Maggie whispers, exhausted. 

“I know,” Harry whispers back, eyes still glued on the baby. “You will. In just a second, love.”

Maggie lets out a shaky sigh. “I feel awful,” she says, and Harry looks at her lightning-quick, eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“She just gave birth, Haz,” Louis reminds. “Of course she feels awful.”

Harry touches her cheek gently. “Are you sure it’s just that?” he asks her, and before he can answer, Niall is stepping in front of him with the baby wrapped in a purple blanket. He crouches down beside her, and Maggie lets out a soft cry as she sits up. This is all so -- so beautiful, really. Louis was there for every single one of his siblings’ births, and he was always amazed and immediately in love, but this is different. This time, he feels less grossed out and more like he’s witnessing a miracle. Because this is a miracle, isn’t it? Someone’s finally shown them some mercy. The baby’s fine, and so is Maggie, and the pack is all bonding over this experience during a time where they all need it most. 

When Niall places the baby in Maggie’s arms, her fussing lessens almost instantly. That’s her mum, after all. Niall grins down at them, and his eyes are full of adoration and hope. Because even during this terrible time, even during the middle of an unrelenting curse, there still manages to be some beautiful things. Roses blooming from frozen concrete, and all that. 

The entire room is quiet as everyone watches Maggie and the baby. It’s the quietest this pack has been in their entire lives, probably. This sense of peace is rare, especially after everything that just happened, and nobody wants to disrupt it. Jay and Beth are doing whatever it is they need to do quietly, mindful of the atmosphere as well. 

“Are we still going with Rue?” Niall asks, voice soft. “I think it fits her, but it’s up to you.”

Maggie nods, and her eyes don’t move from the baby. From _Rue_. She’s so tiny, and Louis only remembers now that she’s a month early. She decided to come a month earlier than she was meant to, yet still put her mum through a two-hour labor. It could’ve been worse, could’ve been longer, but still. There’s no way Rue isn’t going to hear about this for the rest of her life. 

“You guys should take her to a hospital,” Maggie says. Her voice sounds a little weak, and Louis doesn’t think twice about it until he notices the way his mum is looking at her. “For -- you know. To make sure she’s alright. The tests, and. . .”

Jay stands from the bed. “Yes, sweetheart, we’ll do that. Why don’t we give you three some space for right now, hmm?”

Maggie nods sluggishly, and her arms around Rue are looser than they were before. The look Niall and Harry exchange is heart-wrenching, and Louis doesn’t know what it means or what they can sense, he just knows that it isn’t good. 

“Louis, love, go fix everyone dinner,” Jay says. She steers him towards the door with hands on his biceps, and he doesn’t dare ask if everything’s okay because he doesn’t want Maggie to hear the answer. “Out everyone goes, come on,” she says, motioning for everyone to follow Louis out. Everyone leaves the room except for Harry and Niall, who stay put. It’s their responsibility to. 

Louis resists the urge to ask if something’s wrong again, and when his mum shuts the door once everyone’s out, well. That’s the answer he needs. Yes. Yes, something’s wrong. 

“We should eat,” Ben says. His voice startles Louis, and he looks at him like he’s crazy. He doesn’t want to eat right now, he wants to know what the hell is going on. Ben’s eyes are calming, though, and he nods shortly at Louis like he knows what’s best, so Louis listens. 

Everyone slowly makes their way to the kitchen. 

-

It takes thirty-eight minutes for someone to come out of the bedroom, and when they hear the door open, they all stand from the kitchen table. After everybody made a plate of food, everyone sort of just sat there, not eating or talking or even looking at each other. 

Harry enters the kitchen with baby Rue in his arms. Before anybody can even ask, Harry nods and says, “Maggie’s fine. She just lost a bit too much blood. She’ll be fine from here on out, though.”

Relief rushes through Louis so fast that it leaves him lightheaded. Around him there are similar signs of relief, and Ruth reaches over to touch Greg’s shoulder. That _is_ his sister-in-law. 

“How’s Rue?” Gemma asks. 

“And why do _you_ have her? You’re not the one who just spent two hours pushing that thing out of you,” Nick points out, and Harry rolls his eyes at him. 

“Niall asked me to take her, thanks. And the pup is fine. Healthy. We think, anyway. She’ll need her tests done sometime soon.”

Scott turns around to look at Rue properly. She’s bundled up in that same lavender blanket as before, with only her face peeking out. Her eyes are open, though unfocused, and she looks content. “She’s not as cute as a pup,” Scott decides, and Liam slaps his arm. 

“Niall’s worried about tonight,” Harry says, and he shifts Rue in his arms ever so slightly, keeping her as close as possible. She is the most vulnerable member of this pack, and Harry doesn’t take that knowledge lightly. She doesn’t seem to mind it, though. “About, you know. The change. He’s scared that she’ll change, too. Lou, is there a way to, like, check?”

“Yeah,” Louis says, already standing up. Before walking past Harry, he takes a moment to really look at Rue. She stares back at him, although Louis knows she’s probably not taking everything in. After a few seconds, she makes a face like she might cry. She doesn’t, but to keep it that way, Louis heads to the bookshelf where he keeps his spellbooks. Harry follows him. 

“Set her down somewhere safe,” Louis tells him as he flips to the right section. He’ll have to get the crib setup tonight, then. When Beth went into town with Ben, she bought a crib, food, diapers and clothes for the baby, and thank God she did, because they would’ve been screwed if not. Louis was going to send his mum out sometime this month to get all that stuff. “I don’t want anybody holding her while I do it, unless it’s Beth or my mum. We all have magic in us and I don’t want that to confuse anything.”

As Louis locates the spell he’s looking for, Harry carefully gets a blanket off the back of the couch and lays it out on the ground. With gentle hands, he sets her in the center of if before he sits beside her. She’s a tiny little thing; the size of Harry next to her shows just how small she is. 

“It’s not going to hurt her or anything, right?” Niall asks, coming out of the room. He must’ve heard them. 

“No,” Louis promises. “Might feel weird, but it won’t hurt. Here, I found it.”

Niall crosses the room and sits on the couch, observing. He looks drained, so there’s no telling what Maggie looks like right now. “What exactly are you doing?” 

“Checking for traces of magic in her,” Louis explains. “Now shush. I have to concentrate.”

The spell takes a minute at most. Once he says the words out loud, he can _feel_ the aura of Rue. It’s a warm, soft feeling, one that lacks any sort of supernatural element to it. It’s like a warm hug, or maybe how it feels to put your hand up next to a lit candle. It’s comforting. The peace that feeling her aura brings him is short-lived, because Rue bursts into tears. 

“Oh, pup,” Harry coos. He runs his finger down her cheek, and Niall comes over to scoop her up. She doesn’t settle down as quickly as she did with Maggie, but it’s okay. Niall already knows all the right things to do and say. It’s instinctual. 

“What do we do if she doesn’t like us as wolves?” Niall asks quietly as he sways her back and forth. “Like, if we scare her or something?”

Harry frowns. “She was inside of a wolf for most of her life. I reckon there’s not going to be anything more comforting to her than you and Maggie as wolves. That’s what she knows.”

Niall’s shoulders sag in relief as he nods. It’s true, isn’t it. Babies get a feel of their world from inside, and most of her time was spent with Niall and Maggie as wolves. The smells and the sounds and everything else that comes with it won’t scare her off; it’ll comfort her. 

In the silence that follows, Harry scoots closer to Louis and wraps his arms around him. Louis lets himself be tugged against his still-bare chest, and he sets his head against his shoulder as they watch Niall and Rue. Despite how the night started, peace is slowly starting to claim victory of it. Rue’s okay. Maggie’s okay. They’re both safe. There’s no other knowledge that could bring them such tranquility, especially when they had spent months silently accepting that they’d most likely lose Maggie when they gained Rue.

Hopefully, this sense of peace and joy can follow them as they all try to navigate this new milestone together. It’ll be hard, probably, but this pack isn’t new to hardships. Louis desperately wants everyone to have a break, for things to just be _good_ for once. Looking at Rue, he has no idea how it could be anything but. 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> little rue is now here, and a certain someone else is coming along in the next chapter. . . (coming feb 4th, at night)
> 
> all of your lovely comments on the last chapter were so kind and motivational, so thank you <3


	4. chapter four

-

Getting adjusted to a life with a baby isn’t as hard as Louis anticipated it would be. 

It’s a change, of course. Especially because it comes with Beth leaving a week after the birth and with his mum talking about leaving by the end of the month. The baby itself, though, isn't all too hard to take care of. All Rue does is poop, cry, and sleep. Louis can handle that without a problem. Besides, he’s not alone. There are a dozen others here to look after Rue, and they all do. 

In the crying and sleeping front, Niall and Maggie take the lead. They can usually calm her down, if she’s only fussing just to fuss. Harry always bolts to the bedroom when Rue cries, too, even though his leg is still not fully healed. If Rue’s actually hungry or needs a diaper change, that’s when Louis comes in to take care of her. 

Louis thought that Rue would feel like his own kid, and that’s very much not the truth. Through and through, in every aspect, Louis knows she’s not. She’s just his little companion that comes with him on walks outside and chills with him as he cleans up the kitchen and cuddles with him throughout the day when Maggie and Niall want a break. The four of them work out a system fairly easily within the first week. 

Louis takes her out into the city exactly two days after her birth because he’s worried about waiting too long. He takes her to a pediatric office and gets her checked-out, and the doctor there tells him that everything looks good with her. They’re still waiting on some test results, but Louis is positive everything will come back as normal. 

Rue is lucky, he’s pretty sure. Yeah, it sucks that her parents can’t take care of her in the way they want to, but she still _has_ parents, and two adoring, protective ones at that. She has a whole army of wolves ready to defend her at a moment’s notice, too, plus a witch. Most people don’t have that. And she’ll grow up to be a wolf as well, one who doesn’t suffer from this stupid curse, and that makes her pretty lucky. 

On the day she turns exactly fifteen days old, for once Louis doesn’t wake to her cries. He wakes up from the sunlight pouring in from the window. He’s still stuck on the couch with Liam and Harry. Beth stressed that they still need to be resting, especially Harry and Ben. Ben sleeps in the kitchen; it’s the coolest area of the cabin, and he has made himself a decent bed with blankets that he stole from all throughout the house. 

Louis sits up and glances down at Harry and Liam. Harry’s between his legs like normal, his head resting on Louis’ hip, and his eyes are shut but there’s no way he’s asleep since Liam is licking at his back wound. It’s healed, mostly, and there’s no need for a bandage anymore. Liam’s just taking care of him to be on the safe side. When Louis shifts, Harry cracks his eyes open, only to shut them again a moment later when Louis pets his head. 

“Someone’s sleepy,” Louis whispers. He grabs his phone off the floor to play on until Rue inevitably cries, and he continues to pet Harry’s head, stopping every few minutes to softly tug on his ears. They’re granted exactly twenty-seven minutes of peace, and then Rue is hollering her heart out from the other room. Harry is off the couch in a minute, being as mindful of his leg as he can be, and he limps to the room while Louis takes a little bit longer. It’s definitely a diaper cry, but he’s not quite awake enough for that yet. 

He gives himself a minute before getting up and following the noise. Little Rue is wailing from where she’s laying next to her mum in bed. Niall’s curled up behind Maggie, and Harry’s sniffing at Rue, making sure she’s okay just like he does every time she cries. Louis wasn’t initially too keen on the idea of Rue sleeping in bed with them, but Niall and Maggie didn’t let his input mean anything, and she’s been fine. Wolves _are_ more intuitive than humans; Louis doesn’t think for a second that they’d accidentally roll on her in the middle of the night, or let her be suffocated by any of the bedding, or anything like that. Wolves were designed to sleep with their young, and even though that young isn’t traditionally a human, it doesn’t make a difference. 

“Okay, pup,” Louis says with a sigh. “Up you go.” He grabs her from Maggie once he receives a nod of permission -- again, she’s not his child, and he won’t get himself bit for overstepping -- and takes her to the changing table. Harry follows close behind, even though there’s nothing he can do. 

Once Rue is all cleaned up and calmed down, Louis scoops her up and turns to Maggie and Niall. “You want her back or do you want me to take her for a little bit?” The answer depends on the day, and today, Maggie and Niall both give him the greenlight to take her from the room -- Maggie by closing her eyes, and Niall by motioning to the door with his head.

Harry’s on his heels when Louis reaches the kitchen, where he finds Jay having an in-depth conversation with Ben, who is still laying in bed. Ben sits up when he sees Rue, and Jay lights up. 

“Oh, hello, precious,” she coos, coming over to steal her right out of Louis’ arm. He lets it happen and sits at the table. Harry goes to follow Jay to the sink, but Louis tells him sternly to lay down. 

“Give your leg a break, love, come on. Please.”

Harry huffs but obeys. He limps over to Ben’s bed and lays beside him, something that makes Louis tense for no real reason. Ben licks over his head roughly, clearly intending to annoy him, and Harry playfully snaps at him. It always makes Louis nervous when he does that, scared that some people aren’t warmed back up to him just yet and will take that as a sign of aggression, but Louis seems to be the only one with that fear. Everyone’s accepted what happened and moved on from it quite quickly. On the other side of it, Louis’ not too surprised; they’re bond is unbreakable, no matter how fragile it seemed back then. 

Later that night, Maggie, Niall, Harry, Louis and Rue go out to the dock to watch the sun go down. It’s a relatively short walk, and Maggie and Harry both need to get out of the house more than they do. Louis holds a swaddled Rue tight to his chest, even though he’s sitting away from the water and he’s held plenty of babies before without dropping one. Harry sits with Louis, until Gemma comes out of the woods to rile him up. Louis lets it go, only because they’re not playing too rough and Harry’s not putting his bad foot on the ground. 

Ever since things settled down with the pack, most of them spend at least the nights out in the woods. It’s far more normal to see them during the day now than it was before, though. A handful of them stay right out in the front yard most the day. Scott, David, and Greg have always been a bit of a lone-wolf, though they’re lone-wolfers together, so they’re a little rarer to spot. 

After a half hour of playing, Harry comes back to the dock. He’s not limping more than usual, which is surprising. Louis’ win gets soured when Harry ducks his head down to drink out of the lake. 

“Oh, come on,” Louis says with a sigh. “There’s, like, five water bowls just at the porch. Don’t be gross.” And as if to stand in solidarity with her brother, Gemma comes over and joins him. Louis rolls his eyes, wondering why he ever tries to win with them. 

-

The day after his mum leaves, Louis’ sulking. Properly sulking. He loves everyone, but it was nice to be around someone of his species. Now all he has is Rue, but she poops on him and can’t talk back. So, as he does when he sulks, he cuddles under the blankets on the couch with Harry in-between his legs, watching _I Love Lucy_ on the TV. Rue’s sound asleep with her parents in the bedroom, Ben and Liam are in the living room half-heartedly rough-housing, and the others were in the water last time Louis checked. Everything’s normal, up until the exact moment it is not.

They all hear it at the same time. Louis doesn’t know what _‘it’_ is, but Harry jumps to his feet, barking viciously, at the same exact time Ben and Liam exchange a wary look. Louis freezes, desperately confused. Harry doesn’t freeze, though. Harry quite clearly takes charge of the situation; he sends Liam off to go protect the baby while he and Ben go investigate. Louis goes to follow them outside, where a chorus of barks are coming from the others, and he’s immediately shut down by Harry turning and barking at him. _Stay here._

As soon as they’re out the door, it suddenly slams shut on its own. Louis hurriedly glances around, trying to figure who the fuck could have done that and where they are, and when he doesn’t see anybody, he lunges for Harry’s pocket knife that’s sitting on top of a dresser. It’s a short-distanced weapon, but his magic is not. He’s fine. 

Except maybe he’s really not, because Harry and the others are throwing themselves at the door, by the sounds of it, barks so loud that Louis swears he can feel the vibrations of it. Louis tries the door even though he knows it’s glued shut, and sure enough, it is. Movement from the left catches his attention, and his eyes dart over there, fear coursing through his body, but it’s just Gemma trying and failing to break the window. 

Rue cries pitifully, and Louis realizes that there is barking and weighted noises coming from the bedroom, too. That door was flung shut, too, and Louis panics, thinking whoever did this has trapped themselves in with the baby. 

That turns out to be false. 

“Shit guard dog’s you have, mate.”

Louis’ whole body goes hot as he startles, jerking to look at the source of the voice. It’s a man, dark hair, about the same height as Louis, Bradford accent. It doesn’t take Louis more than a handful of seconds to guess that it’s the infamous Zayn Malik, but that’s -- 

“I didn’t know you were a bloody witch,” Louis snaps, his fist tightening around the pocket knife. Zayn stares at it, amused. “You’re -- you’re a vampire, no?”

“Yeah, I am. As one of your darling pups just found out about two minutes ago.”

Louis’ body stills. “You didn’t.”

“You’re right, I didn’t,” Zayn says with a laugh. It’s him; Louis’ sure of it. He’s every bit of fucked in the head that Sean wrote him to be. “But you seem to know who I am, and usually that irritates me. It’s bad for business, people knowing who you are, when, you know, you’re supposed to be the big, bad wolf.”

Louis narrows his eyes. “You’re not funny. What are you _doing_ here?”

Everyone’s barking is giving him a headache, and he can’t stop thinking about how scared everyone is and how distressed Rue sounds and how Harry and Ben are undoubtedly hurting their legs right about now. He doesn’t know _what_ to think, is the problem. Zayn Malik is someone to be feared; he knew that already, and he proved that by seeing right through Louis’ little cloaking spell and marching right in. Zayn’s not even supposed to know that they’re here, and now everyone he loves is probably going to be slaughtered. 

There’s no way Louis could beat an old half-vampire, half-witch either. He’s screwed. He has no way of protecting his family. 

“I am quite funny, actually.”

“Are you here to kill us, then?” Louis presses. “Because you -- you can’t. There’s thirteen of us, you can’t just -- ”

Zayn calmly raises his hand, flicks his fingers, and just like that, the whole cabin goes silent. Rue’s cries, the barking -- it’s all gone. Frantic, Louis rushes to the window to make sure they didn’t all just drop dead, and it turns out that they haven’t. They’re still barking away, just without any noise. 

“Oops,” Zayn says. “It must be two flicks that blows everyone to bits. I always forget. The whole witchcraft thing is so complicated, you know, there are so many rules and conditions and blah, blah, blah.”

Louis stares at him, and it’s a terrifying thing to look into someone’s eyes and fully accept that they’re going to be the last thing that you see before you die. All he’s wondering now is if that'll be before or after Harry, and what Zayn will do with poor little Rue.

Zayn laughs and sits down at the couch, right where Louis was before. “Don’t be so uptight, mate. Come on. This is _exciting_ , isn’t it? I’m _excited_.” When Louis doesn’t reply, Zayn rolls his eyes. “You know, I guess it’s a good thing that I didn’t do my usual specialty of killing the alpha to send a message. I was going to, but then I found out, ahh, there’s been some drama since I’ve been here last, and killing your _boyfriend_ wouldn’t be the best first impression, would it?”

Louis stares at him, somehow feeling even worse. His stomach is cramping and his body is sweating and his ears are ringing. Everything feels like it’s melting inside of him, and Zayn seems so _calm_. “You’ve been here before?”

“What happened, by the way?” Zayn asks, ignoring him. “Your puppy there’s got a weak leg. Not very good for an alpha, no?”

“Aren’t _you_ dating a werewolf?” Louis snaps.

Zayn frowns. “More things you know about me. As I said before, I’m not a big fan of that, Tomlinson.”

“There’s no way she’d be okay with you hurting her own people.”

The laugh Zayn lets out is startling. It’s the most twisted, dramatic thing Louis has ever heard, and then it abruptly stops and Zayn’s looking at him, suddenly so serious. “We don’t really do the whole species-loyalty thing,” he says bitterly. “Would’ve become problematic, you know, because of the fact that I’ve killed too many vampires to count. Witches, too. So, yeah. You aren’t her people, and we aren’t yours. That’s not how this works.”

“Did you really come all the way out here to kill us? Don’t you have better things to do?”

“No, actually, I don’t.”

Zayn stands again, and he walks right up to Louis. He peels back the curtains and grins, waving out at Harry, Nick and Gemma who are literally _throwing_ themselves at the window. It makes Louis sick. 

He stares down at the knife in his hand. It’s probably a bad idea, but he could so easily just --

“Do that and I really will just slaughter all of you,” Zayn says, voice low. Louis chances a look at him, and he’s only inches away. He looks so serious that Louis drops the knife, not wanting to take chances. 

“Good boy,” Zayn says cheerily. He walks back to the couch and stretches out, kicking his shoes off the side of the couch and letting out a long sigh. 

Louis doesn’t know what the fuck he’s here to do. He hasn’t got a clue. Zayn hasn’t killed them yet, but he has a feeling that he likes to play with his food. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Zayn says suddenly. “What happened to Harry’s leg? And Ben’s, for that matter.”

He’s making a point to show just how much he knows about them. He probably already knows what happened that night, too, so Louis doesn’t answer. 

“Answer me or I’ll start with the ones that you aren’t as close with,” Zayn says. “Scott, probably. And then David. And then -- ”

“There was a fight,” Louis blurts out, dizzy by all of this. 

Zayn grins. “Ah, there it is. Between Ben and Harry? A little alpha-on-alpha action? Oh, gosh, I would’ve loved to see that.”

“No,” Louis says. “Between Harry and Liam. Ben got hurt by a trap, which -- it was _you_ who put it there, wasn’t it?”

Zayn actually looks offended. He puts his hand over his heart and says, “My, Louis, that’s not very kind of you. Accusing me of things of such manner. No, I didn’t do that. And I wouldn’t do that. It’s only been a year since one of mine got tangled up in one of those. I did her the favor of killing her, though.” Louis must look horrified, because Zayn laughs. “No, no, don’t make that face. It was a mercy-killing, honestly. She wouldn’t have lasted the night. Some of us don’t have vets on-call.”

If he knows about Beth, he knows why she was here. He already heard Rue crying, but Louis was holding out hope that he would skim over that bit. 

“Okay, okay, enough games,” Zayn says, sitting up. “You look like you might faint. Sit down.”

He sounds oddly sincere now, so Louis sits. The chair farthest away from him still isn’t far enough. This is mad. This is _insane._ Louis was supposed to protect them, and then Zayn just shows up here and -- and Rue, _Rue,_ she’s probably terrified. 

“Can I offer you a word of advice?”

Louis nods, scared of what would happen if he said no. 

“Gigi’s out there, in those woods,” he says, motioning to the direction of the woods. “So is our strongest wolf Gracie. They’re far out, sure, but yours should’ve heard them by now and they haven’t. You’re too comfortable.”

The pack must not be able to hear what Louis and Zayn are saying. He wouldn’t have given up his girlfriend’s hiding spot otherwise. That warning was for Louis and Louis only. “We’ve never gotten any visitors,” Louis whispers. He feels numb, sort of. At a loss of what to do. Completely defeated. 

“Until me.”

“Until you.”

“Good thing I come bearing gifts, no?” he asks, and that grin is back on his face. That stupid, stupid grin. “Look, Louis. I deserve some credit. I waited until your mum and the vet left, I waited for Maggie to give birth so I didn’t scare the thing out of her, I didn’t kill anybody to make a point. You should be thanking me.”

Louis bites his tongue. 

Zayn sighs. “Look. Me and you have the same predicament, right? Our partner is stuck. Our _family_ is stuck. And, for the record, your beau might have some of the most gorgeous hair I’ve ever seen, but mine pretty much wins in everything else.”

Sean did say that Gigi was beautiful. He said the same about Zayn. It’s how they’re so good at manipulating people. 

“I need your help,” Zayn says. “And you need mine.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

Zayn sighs. “Do you want the long story short, or are you going to make me tell you the whole thing?”

-

According to Zayn, a witch by the name of Ava Turner is the one who cursed the werewolves of London. 

It’s quite a tragic story, if he’s telling the truth. Ava was in love with a werewolf named Vance. Madly in love, apparently. They were as thick as thieves. Vance was only nineteen when he was killed by a human in a bar fight that erupted after Vance defended a woman’s honor. (Zayn tells the story as though it took place centuries ago instead of only a few years.) Ava was stricken with grief, of course, but the anger didn’t come in until she realized that Vance’s pack wasn’t going to avenge his death. 

“She thought werewolves had lost their instincts,” Zayn tells him. “She thought that it must’ve been the reason Vance died during that fight. Why he couldn’t hold his own against a measly human. She thought putting a target on their backs would stiffen them back up, remind them of their roots. It’s why she killed those people on the council. She thought they just needed a little push, but they were still being passive, still avoiding a war, still stifling their instincts. And since she had turned the vampires on them, she had an easy ally. It was her idea, of course, the curse.”

“But _why?_ ”

“To make them learn how to be wolves,” Zayn says simply. “To turn them into wild animals, like she thought they were supposed to be.”

Louis’ heart sinks as he thinks about that night, how Harry stood over Liam victoriously. He couldn’t have been further away from human at that point, so Ava got her wish. That night always makes Louis feel sick when he thinks about it, but to know that’s what someone _wanted_ to happen -- it makes him feel even worse. 

Zayn must know what he’s thinking about, because he gives him a sympathetic smile. “Bella tried drowning her sister in a fit of rage. Imagine my surprise, seeing my sister-in-law attempting to murder my girlfriend. Quite insane, honestly. We were supposed to be watching a movie, quietly celebrating the night of the full moon, and Bella snuck off to go ruin Gigi’s bubble bath.”

“They were _humans_ when they did that?” Louis asks, shocked. Nobody in his pack would do such a thing as humans. They would never lose themselves to that degree.

Zayn nods. “I haven’t, um. I haven’t done as good of a job as you have, I suppose. I’m gone most of the time, don’t even make it back for most full moons. I guess. . . I guess they’ve gone a little wilder than yours.” He covers up his insecurity with a grin and a quick, “I don’t know, actually, Harry might fit in well with them.”

Louis ignores that. It’s not true, so he won’t validate it enough to give it a response. “How do you know all this? And where is Ava now?”

“I know all of this because Ava told me her life story in an attempt to get me to spare her life,” he explains, and he doesn’t sound all that bothered about it. “I sort of felt bad for her, honestly. Poor thing shrieked and pleaded like her life depended on it.” He snorts. “And, well -- ”

“Don’t,” Louis interrupts, shaking his head. “When was this?”

“Nine -- no, ten months ago? Ish. I don’t know. Time is irrelevant to vampires.” He frowns again. “Not to werewolves, though. Which is why I’m here.”

His fear of Zayn went down when he realized that he needed something from Louis, so he finally has had enough with his games and feels enough irritation to be able to show it. “ _You_ killed her. _You._ You _killed_ her without getting the cure to this all, so maybe you should’ve thought about what your girlfriend would have wanted long before you killed Ava.” 

“Who says I didn’t get the cure?”

“The last ten months say that, Zayn. You would’ve done something if you could have.”

“I couldn’t have,” Zayn argues, standing up. He walks around the couch to lean against it, his elbows against the cushions. “I was missing a key ingredient.”

“Yeah? What’s that? A witch half of your strength and a pack who spends their days chasing each other’s tails?”

Zayn shakes his head. “Not quite, or I would have come a lot sooner. Although it is entertaining, watching them play. But, uh. This ingredient. . . this ingredient took a little while to, umm. It took a little while to cook, let’s just say.”

Beyond annoyed, Louis says, “What are you -- ” And then he gets it. He suddenly gets it, and immediately, he’s standing up. “No. _No._ Do you hear me? That’s not a fucking option. You leave Rue out of this.”

Zayn shrugs. The way he is so fucking calm about this is infuriating. These are their lives that he’s toying with. Not everyone is fucking immortal. “I use Rue for the ritual, which she will be _unharmed_ during, with your approval or without. I’ll kill all of you, leave her an orphan, use her for the ritual and then hand her off to your mum, or you all stay alive and I use her. It’s up to you.”

“That’s not -- ” he pauses, trying to balance the issue of having no leg to stand on with the responsibility of defending his pack. There’s no assurance that Rue wouldn’t be hurt in the process of the spell; it’s a never-done-before spell to break a never-been-done-before curse. There’s no promising _anything_. All they’ve ever wanted was a cure to this stupid thing, but Louis can’t and won’t put Rue’s life on the line to get it. 

So, he has to buy time. 

“You can’t expect me to make this decision on my own,” Louis says, after he’s picked out his words carefully. “I’m not the alpha of this pack, and I’m certainly not that baby’s parents. You need to -- to give us time. You need to come back when you can actually talk to the people you need to talk to.”

Zayn frowns. “The next full moon, you mean?”

“It’s only two weeks away. That’s not too long.”

Zayn thinks about it, turning his head from side to side as he weighs out the pros and cons of it. And Louis sits there watching him, wondering why the hell he just invited this monster back here. “Have you done your monthly shopping, Louis?” Zayn asks eventually. “Baby food and diapers and all that?”

Louis stares at him, confused. When Zayn offers no clarity, Louis says, “Yes. Why?”

“Great,” Zayn says, standing up. He claps his hands together and smirks. “I’ll see you in two weeks, then. In the meantime, none of you are stepping foot off this property. Have fun, Louis.”

He snaps his fingers together again, and this time, the banging finally stops. There’s officially no noise other than Zayn’s feet as he walks to the front door. Louis looks out the window to see everyone outside frozen; Gemma’s mid-jump, Nick’s mid-bark, Harry’s legs are a blur beneath him. Perfectly still, all of them. 

Zayn strolls out the front door, and when the door shuts behind him, the force of it finally snaps Louis out of his haze. Panic floods his body as he stands and follows after Zayn -- he can’t just _leave_ , he can’t just leave them all _stuck_ here, and what if he leaves them frozen for two weeks? Zayn’s already halfway towards the woods, his posture relaxed and pace slow. Two wolves meet him, and Louis watches powerlessly as the three of them disappear into the woods. 

Louis waits a minute. Two. Everyone’s still frozen. Three. Four. Just when he really starts to panic, thinking they’re going to be stuck like this forever, they’re brought back to life. Everyone looks startled, at first, and Louis immediately turns back around to check on Rue. 

When Louis opens the bedroom door, there’s a slow, deep growl before Liam realizes it’s him. He whines quietly, then, and Louis distractedly brushes his hand over Liam’s back as he hurries over to Rue, who’s laying on her back in the center of the bed, crying but otherwise unharmed. Niall is nuzzling her belly with his snout while Maggie’s licking at her head, and Louis leans against the edge of the bed. It’s hard to resist picking Rue up, but he’s sure that’ll get him bit when her parents are feeling so protective and vulnerable, and he needs to catch his breath, anyway. 

Before he can even do that, Harry’s coming into the bedroom, limping _horribly_. His first priority is Rue, and Louis’ heart drops when Harry hops into bed and Niall gives him a death-stare. Harry’s ears go back, his movements slowing, and Louis’ so sure that there’s going to be some altercation before Niall moves out of the way and lets Harry sniff her out for himself. Only for a minute, and then Niall’s nudging him out of the way again. 

Harry turns to Louis, then, and he steps closer to set his head against Louis’ stomach. “I’m fine,” Louis promises, though his voice shakes. He eyes Harry’s back leg, which is shaking with hurt, and he smooths his hand over his neck. “Come on, let’s go sit in the living room, okay? You need to get off that leg, and we,” he sighs. “We need to talk.”

-

Tonight’s eerily quiet and suffocatingly tense atmosphere is one Louis is too familiar with, and he was hoping after that horrible night he’d never have to be reacquainted with it again. 

Niall and Maggie won’t leave Rue’s side. One of them is with her the entire time, and they won’t let Louis take her out of the bedroom. They’re irritable and moody and have growled at at least three of them by now. 

Everyone else is distressed, too. Someone came into their home, made a show of it all, and then demanded something that they can’t give. They can’t sacrifice Rue’s safety. But Zayn didn’t really give them a choice; it’s happening with them dead or alive, he said. It’s Maggie and Niall’s decision above all else, though, maybe along with Harry’s, and they made it crystal clear that nobody is coming anywhere near Rue. 

For the whole night, Louis sits beside Harry on the ground in front of the bedroom, leaning against the door. Harry has half of his body draped over Louis’ lap, his head between his front paws, and his eyes don’t shut once. His back leg is bandaged again and resting on a pillow, but he’s not in any pain. Louis could only take it for so long, hearing Harry whine in pain as he limped around, and he did the spell to take that pain away without asking first because he didn’t want to deal with a no. Harry thanked him afterwards with a slobbery lick to the hand. 

Times like these, Louis wants to cry with how badly he wants to have a proper conversation with Harry. He wants to hear that everything’s going to be fine, and that they’ll figure it out together, and that nothing’s going to happen to Rue. He wants to be comforted in the way that only Harry can give him. He can’t, though. He can’t have that. And he dreads the full moon, because Harry telling him everything will be okay might very well be some of his last words before Zayn kills them and takes what he wants. 

-

Zayn shows up a day before the full moon. It’s most likely an attempt to avoid any last-minute plans of rebellion, which was maybe smart on his part, because everyone’s been prowling the perimeter of the cabin for the last few days, tense and moody. Louis wouldn’t be surprised if one of them has an ill-advised plan of revenge drifting about in their head. Especially Harry, who has fucked up his leg so badly that he barely gets up at all most days and has time to think all day. The more and more Louis takes the pain away using magic, the less and less it’s effective. 

When a chorus of howls erupt from outside, though, Harry is on his feet in a minute. He heads outside with Liam, Ben, Ruth and Nicola head to Maggie and Niall’s side. Louis does a quick spell to lock the bedroom door, but he knows Zayn will be able to undo it in seconds. 

Zayn and the same two wolves as last time come strolling up to the cabin like they own the place. Like they aren’t afraid of anything. Most of everyone is on the porch, including Harry who’s guarding the steps like he has any strength to, but Scott and David are out near the trees, hiding and undoubtedly plotting. 

Scott and David are strong, sure, but they’re nowhere near the strength of a century year old vampire. They don’t stand a chance, and they look like they might think they do, so Louis steps forward and calls out to them, telling them to stand down. 

It makes Zayn grin. “Ah, Louis, friend. You’re a quick learner, aren’t you?” He walks the rest of the way before he stops, only about a yard away from the cabin. Away from Harry. Louis’ standing behind him out of habit, and only as Zayn surveys them all does he realize that Louis’ more likely to put up a better fight than Harry is. He steps beside Harry, and immediately, Harry plants himself in front of him again. In response, the two wolves beside Zayn step closer, too. One’s a light auburn color with the other is a stark black, matching Harry’s coat almost exactly. 

“His leg has gotten worse,” Zayn observes. He’s not grinning anymore. “He can’t even put any weight on it. Why haven’t you fixed it?”

Louis stares at him, confused. He and Harry move so they’re pressed against each other at the same time, neither of them liking how Zayn’s focused on Harry. “I don’t know how,” Louis admits. “I thought -- I thought witches can’t heal things like that.”

“We can. We can heal all sorts of things. And I’ll show you how. You know, after everyone promises not to try and kill me. I’m not giving anyone any unfair advantages.” 

The offer would be kind, if it came from literally anybody else and not in the context of leverage. Louis chooses to ignore it, and Zayn sighs. 

“I was very nice in letting you have until the full moon to make a decision,” Zayn says. “I’ll even let you all talk over things tomorrow. I mean, it’ll be pointless, but I’ll let you lot think your input matters. I’m kind like that, Louis, really.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “You’re an ass and you know it.”

“Guilty as charged,” Zayn says, spreading his arms out. When he puts them back down by his sides, he bends so his fingers run over the wolves’ backs. “This one is Gigi,” he says, referring to the auburn-colored one. “And this is Gracie. And there’s not a surer way of getting yourself killed than threatening one of them in the slightest. I mean it.” He points to Gemma. “I think that one needs to hear it most.”

Harry growls, and fear shoots through Louis’ spine when Zayn cocks his head at him. 

“Oh, that’s right,” he says. “That one’s the sister, isn’t it? I forgot. My bad.”

“Stop taunting them and just tell me what you want.” He sounds pleading, and he doesn’t even care. This night is going to be terrible, probably, and tomorrow will be even worse, and he wants to limit the awfulness of it all as much as he possibly can. 

Zayn shrugs. “I don’t want anything tonight. I told you, mate, I’ll let you have tomorrow night to yourselves to discuss this. We can _all_ discuss this. All I need from you tonight is somewhere to sleep, because unlike yours, mine would probably eat me if I made them sleep outside.”

God, that’s. . . going to end poorly. Nobody will leave the house if Zayn is under the same roof as Rue, and that’s just begging for disaster. There’s not even a separate bedroom he can put them in, unless he asks Niall and Maggie to take Rue out into the open, which he absolutely wouldn’t do. 

“And I want Harry to sit the fuck down, because they’re basically dogs and there’s nothing more that I hate than seeing a dog in pain.”

“He’s fine,” Louis argues. 

“He’s not.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not going to listen to you, now, is he?”

Zayn gives him a look, one that sends heat pooling in Louis’ stomach. He has an incredible way of being as terrifying as possible. There’s something about his cockiness, something about his coolness -- the mix of it all is intimidating. 

Quietly, Zayn says, “You know, I was talking about it with Gigi a few months ago, and we’re both pretty sure Ava would’ve regretted what she had done if she saw the two of you. You and Harry, I mean, you and Ava were both witches, both of you in love with a werewolf. . . I don’t know if you’ve noticed the similarities, is all.” He shrugs. “I was sort of hoping the cure for this whole thing had to do with you going batshit like she did. It’d be poetic, don’t you think? One goes insane because of their lover’s death, the other goes insane because of their lover’s life. But no, she had to make things complicated by putting a baby into the mix.”

Nick, Harry and Gemma all snarl on cue, and Zayn holds his hands up while rolling his eyes. 

“It was _Ava’s_ fault,” he snaps. “She’s the one who wrote the damn thing, not me. And, you know, it has to be said that I wouldn’t be here right now if those two weren’t dumb enough to get knocked up in the middle of all this. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who _hasn’t_ aided that baby’s part in this.”

“Just stop it,” Louis says as he shakes his head. “Just -- stop. You have the upper hand here, we all know that. You said you want to discuss it with them tomorrow, and the only way you’ll get to do that is if you don’t rile everyone up so much that they can’t do anything _but_ kill you.”

“Fair enough,” Zayn agrees. “Why don’t we go inside, then? I’d love to have the tour of the place.”

-

That night, Louis doesn’t get a blink of sleep, as does nobody else except Zayn, Gigi and Gracie (although suspects that at least one of them is not actually asleep in order to keep watch). Zayn took the chair, and _both_ Gigi and Gracie are with him, Gigi tucked into his side and Gracie lying across the both of them. There’s no way it’s comfortable, although Louis understands that one of them being separated would be even more uncomfortable. As they sleep, everyone else crowds into the kitchen and does anything but. Maggie and Niall made it very clear they didn’t want anybody in the room with them, so beside them, Rue, and Gemma and Greg who are guarding the door, everyone is in the kitchen. 

There are probably bigger things to be worrying about, but as of right now, Louis’ far too tired to worry about any of it. Right now, he’s focused on Harry, who quite literally can’t get up because of how bad his leg hurts. Zayn went to bed four hours ago, and when everyone moved to the kitchen, Harry laid down (dropped to the floor, more like). He hasn’t even made an attempt to get up, either, even though Louis knows he wants to go check on Rue. He _can’t_. Louis has tried to take the pain away from him three times now, and the pain hasn’t gone down any. It’s lost his effect, right when Harry needs his strength the most. 

“You should try to rest,” Louis whispers to him. Harry’s head is in his lap, and his eyes are only half-open now that Louis has begun to pet him. “All of you should. None of this is going to be solved tonight.”

Nobody listens, of course, and they spend hours on end basically just staring at each other. When Zayn wakes up in the morning, all of the wolves hear it first and they race to the living room. Harry tries, he really does, but his back left foot barely touches the ground when he tries to stand, and it sends him recoiling with pain. He whimpers quietly and puts his head back into Louis’ lap, his front legs draped over Louis as well. The message is clear: _I can’t protect Rue, but I can do my best to protect you_. So, Louis stays with him, partly because he can see into the living room and nobody’s killing each other yet, and partly because he wouldn’t dare leave Harry’s side right now for anything. 

Louis watches Zayn stand from the chair, watches how Gigi and Gracie surround him like he needs their protection, how everybody else backs up while simultaneously broadening their stance. Louis’ eyes don’t leave Zayn for a minute, cautious of him entering the bedroom, but he comes straight towards the kitchen. One look at Harry, who sits up and bares his teeth, is all it takes for Zayn to frown and set his hands on his hips. 

“Again, mate,” he says. “Shit guard dog’s you have.”

He then goes to the fridge, grabs the carton of milk and a box of cereal out of the pantry, and three bowls. In disbelief, Louis watches him actually fix Gracie and Gigi a bowl of cereal alongside his own. Louis cooks for them most nights, sure, but not _cereal_. Sure enough, though, Zayn puts the two bowls on the ground for the wolves while he sits at the kitchen table and eats his own. 

Rue is due to cry any minute now. She had a relatively peaceful night, although all that means is she’s going to be extra loud this morning. It makes Louis beyond nervous. That, along with the fact that Zayn’s eyes don’t leave Harry the entire time he eats. 

Once he’s done, he strolls up to Harry with every confidence in the world and bends down in front of him. Someone barks from the living room, Louis’ not sure who, too worried about what’s happening before him. 

“You bite me, I bite him,” Zayn says sternly as he points at Louis. “You got that?”

Harry shows no indication of _‘having that,’_ but when Zayn raises his hand over Harry’s head, he doesn’t move. He flinches when Zayn starts to pet his head, but there’s no biting involved. Louis startles when Gigi comes over and paws at Louis’ thigh, which in turn makes Harry jolt, and Zayn shushes him. 

“He’s fine,” Zayn says, too soft and too genuine for Louis’ liking. “Gigi’s not going to hurt him, and I’m not going to hurt you. Not yet, anyway.”

When Gigi paws at his leg again, Louis doesn’t startle this time. Instead, he carefully raises his hand, confused, until Gigi ducks her head under it so he’ll pet her. He does as gently as possible, and his stomach is in knots. 

“What is this supposed to be?” Louis asks. “What are you supposed to gain from this? Trust? Because that’s not happening.” He keeps petting Gigi anyway, as Zayn does with Harry, who hasn’t relaxed in the slightest. 

Zayn shrugs. “I don’t know. They’re beautiful, though, aren’t they? Harry looks a lot like Gracie, but his eyes. . . Those are the eyes of an alpha, that’s for sure.”

Louis stays silent, still not understanding the point of this all. After a minute or two more, Zayn sits back on his heels and says, mostly to Harry, “I’ll do the spell to take your pain and fix your leg, but only if you swear on Louis’ life that you won’t make me regret it.”

Louis knocks Zayn’s hand away from Harry’s head, firm but not roughly. He pulls Harry’s head towards his lap as he shakes his head. “You’re not doing any sort of spell on him that I’m not familiar with.”

“That’s just stupid,” Zayn argues. “I’ve been a witch a lot longer than you. Obviously, I know more spells than you do.”

“A lot of spells have catches, though. Like, some adverse consequence.”

Zayn nods, looking at Louis like he’s thick. “Yeah, I know that, dumbass. And so does this one.”

“Which is?”

“I take his pain,” he says simply, like that’s something a psychotic half-witch, half-vampire would just _do_ for his enemy. Louis doesn’t believe him for a second, even if the sincerity in his eyes make him doubt himself. Zayn frowns at him. “Are you really going to make me hurt my girlfriend just to heal her two seconds later to prove my point?”

Louis shrugs. “I don’t know, _are_ you really going to hurt your girlfriend to prove your point?”

Zayn sighs, grabs Gigi’s front leg, and Louis looks away just in time to avoid the sight of him biting into her flesh. The noise of it itself makes Louis’ heart drop, and Harry yanks himself away from Zayn and drags himself as far away as he can, which is only a foot or so. Louis goes after him, pulling him back into his side. 

Vampire bites to werewolves are lethal. Insanely lethal. It takes an hour at most to kill them, and it’s a grueling death. Within only a few seconds, though, Zayn is rehearsing a spell and just like that, the wound is gone from her arm. Louis stares at him, shocked. 

“You’re a fucking psychopath,” Louis declares, and Zayn doesn’t even try to deny it. 

“A psychopath who’s trying to gain the trust of a very irritating witch, yes.”

Louis’ eyes dart from Gig’s healed leg to Zayn’s bloodied lips to Harry, who’s now shaking in his arms, a mix of fear and pain. There are risks to this. There are definitely risks to trusting Zayn. But there are also rewards; if Harry’s at full-strength, maybe they have a shot at taking Zayn down if necessary. 

“You don’t seem to be in any pain,” Louis notices as he says it. “You said you take their pain.”

“Mate, I’m a vampire. An old one at that. It’d take a fucking pike through my heart to get me to even flinch.”

Louis scoffs. “Noted.” But then, “You said you lost one of yours because of a trap. You could’ve just healed them, if you’re telling the truth.”

He glares at Zayn, who doesn’t look smug or annoyed. He looks sad, almost. “I didn’t get to her in time,” he says. “I can take their pain and heal them, but I can’t, like, fix them if they're on their deathbed. She had lost way too much blood, and I can’t just give her vampire blood now, can I, and it was just -- ” He sighs and looks down at Gigi, haven’t nothing more to say for himself. 

Following suit, Louis looks down at Harry, at the pain clear in his eyes, and he doesn’t know what to do. Except for that he does, and he’s scared the consequences will be blamed on him if they’re negative. So, like the coward he sometimes can be, Louis says, “It’s up to you, H.”

“No, actually,” Zayn says. “It’s up to me. And as I said before, he has to promise _on your life_ that he won’t try to kill me if I do this for him.”

An entire minute passes before Harry lifts his head and licks at Louis’ palm, their version of a _yes_. Zayn takes it as one, too. He scoots over to where Harry and Louis moved to, Gigi follows, and Harry closes his eyes. He’s breathing heavily, and Louis kisses the side of his head, soothing himself. 

Zayn wastes no time. He rehearses the spell, the exact same one as before, and within thirty seconds, Harry sits up and stares back at his leg. As a test, he moves it, pushes it against the ground a bit, and when there’s no pain, he looks back to Zayn, eyes unreadable. 

“You have to do the same for Ben,” Louis says, pleading. That’s -- he didn’t know that witches could just do that, and now that he does, he wants the same done for Ben. In less than a minute, Harry went from being in tormenting pain to perfectly fine. Why isn’t that a spell taught to everyone? “Please. Ben’s leg is just as shit as Harry’s is -- _was_.”

Zayn shakes his head without even considering it. “I’m not putting two alpha-types back in commission while I’m on your most wanted list,” he says as he stands. “After our little chat tomorrow, you can tell me then if you want me to fix Ben’s leg up or you want me to kill all of you, okay?”

He heads back out into the living room with Gigi and Gracie on his heels. Before he leaves, though, he turns and says, “And Louis? _That_ was my way of getting your trust. The petting thing is just fun.”

He leaves then, and Harry follows after him immediately, his back leg suddenly as good as new.

-

Somehow, Louis falls asleep in the middle of the day. The tension is still there but level, the warmth of Harry’s body beside his calms him, and Rue’s asleep as well; all three of those things combined pull him down to a deep sleep that only breaks when Harry slips out of his arms to go somewhere private to shift. Everyone does, in fact, even Gigi and Gracie, so it’s just Zayn and Louis staring at each other in the living room for the longest time. 

The arguing officially starts when Niall bursts out of the bedroom, a pair of sweats low on his hips, to snap, “You are _not_ touching my child.” Harry’s inside within a minute, his clothes tugged on as quick as possible, to stand beside Niall. Liam, Gemma and David are quick to follow, and Zayn’s eyes fall onto Harry. Maggie, who’s still resting as much as she can in order to regain her strength, stays in the room with Rue. 

“I healed your leg,” Zayn says calmly. “And I’ll break in half just as fast.”

“Nobody wants to hurt the baby,” a woman says as she opens the front door. She moves to stand beside Zayn, and his hand darts out to rest on her hip, keeping her close. It must be Gigi. 

“And nobody is going to hurt any of us, so you might as well quit while you’re ahead,” says the other one, Gracie, who walks in after Nick. Nick turns around to glare at her, and she simply moves around him to stand in line next to Zayn and Gigi.

An entire pack versus two werewolves and Zayn. The odds should be in their favor, and they just aren’t. Louis won’t say it -- it’s simply not his place to -- but maybe it is the best option to let them go through with the ritual, even if it includes Rue. If Zayn couldn’t and wasn’t so willing to kill them, he’d never even think that. Zayn is, though. Louis completely takes him seriously when he says that he’ll do it with their consent or over their dead bodies. And then what? Rue is without her parents, without her pack, and that’s --

Louis’ eyes fall on Harry. Again, it’s not his place to say it. He wouldn’t dare, either, not when the risk is so big. He can’t have Rue’s blood on his hands. He wonders if that’s what’s going through Harry’s head, too. 

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again,” Zayn starts. “There’s no reason for you to not trust me. I came here peacefully, didn’t lay a hand on anyone, and reasoned with Louis to give you lot tonight to discuss this. I’ve given you an ultimatum, sure, but it’s a fair one. I’m not willing to let the ones _I_ care about suffer because the ones _you_ care about are too scared to do something that we all know is for the best. And I fixed Harry’s leg, and I’ll fix the other one’s, too, if you just let me have five fucking minutes alone with that baby.” He throws his hands up. “I don’t even have to be alone. I’d do it right in front of you, even though I work better when I’m in private. It’s not going to hurt her. Ava’s issue was with werewolves, not _babies_. The baby will be fine.”

“The baby is _ours_ ,” Niall spits. “Not yours. You can’t just do as you please, she’s -- she’s only a month old. Have you ever even _done_ a spell on someone so young?”

“ _Yes._ Many times. Witches have a lot more abilities to heal than you seem to realize. They normally don’t hurt, unless they have to. Which, as a reminder, is not one of Ava’s requirements in this.”

Louis crosses his arms over his chest. The vulnerability on Niall’s face, the fear, makes him feel exposed. Harry doesn’t let his face show any emotion other than rage, and Louis’ silently thankful for it. “Why would Ava incorporate a _baby_ as part of the cure?” Louis asks. “That seems oddly convenient.”

Zayn barks out a laugh. “ _Convenient?_ You think waiting on a couple of werewolves to be stupid enough to bang out a baby was _convenient_ for me? I would’ve had all of my wolves volunteering if it was that simple. You’re thick, Louis. All of you are. Rue is the only one that’ll work because she’s the only one that was conceived naturally. Ava was a heartbroken teenage girl; of course she had some element of true love that was needed to break the curse.”

“I’ll _die_ to protect my daughter,” Niall says, and Zayn shrugs. 

“I guess you will.”

Gigi glances at Zayn with a frown. Maybe she wasn’t aware of all the details in Zayn’s ultimatum. “That’s not what we talked about.”

Zayn stares straight forward, eyes focused on Harry. “I know what we talked about.”

“And you’re just going to blatantly ignore it?”

“Do you honestly feel like these are people you could get along with?”

Gigi snaps out a furious, _“Yes,”_ while Gracie laughs and says, “No.”

There’s a silence as everyone watches Gigi glare a hole into the side of Zayn’s face. He must be stubborn in all aspects of his life, then. Even with his girlfriend. 

“What’d you talk about?”

Louis jolts at the sound of Harry’s voice, and his heart begins to race. He’s prepared for this all to explode, and he doesn’t want to see the last straw coming. 

Gigi glances at him. “What?”

“You said the two of you talked about something. What’d you talk about?”

Gigi sighs and goes to answer, but Zayn grabs his elbow, a gentle tug to keep her quiet. It doesn’t work, though; she yanks her arm away from him and answers. “There’s only four of us left. Me, my sister, Gracie, and her brother. We’re small.”

“You’re vulnerable,” Harry infers, and Gigi nods. She doesn’t look as brave as she did a moment ago. “And there’s not that much room to reproduce within the pack. You’re with a vampire, and if they’re your siblings. . .” Harry shrugs. “You want a bigger pool to pick from. And you think _our_ pool’s the one to choose from?”

“You’re not the only werewolves around,” Gigi says hotly. “And we could merge with another pack, but we -- we’ve talked about it. We’ve thought it through. Your pack is probably the only one who would even consider to take us in, considering, well.” She motions to Zayn, and Louis snorts. Yeah, that’s all she had to say for the message to be received. 

It makes sense, it does. For _them,_ though. Not for Louis’ pack. They’ve grown up together; four strangers and an insane vampire could not fit into that same bond. And if it’s all in the name of reproduction, well -- Louis thinks the other three should take their chances, try to get pregnant with a human partner, and hope that their werewolf gene gets past down. Louis doesn’t see a more realistic option. 

“You said that we’d be the ones taking you in,” Gemma says. “Do you really expect us to believe that you’d be willing to follow Harry?”

Gigi nods. “Yeah, I do. That’s why I told Zayn not to kill him.”

“We’re getting off topic, don’t you think?” Zayn snaps, and Harry shakes his head. 

“No, we’re not. Because this is probably your plan, right? To try to get us to trust you, you had your girlfriend make up some story about wanting to join our pack. You want to make it seem like this is a mutually beneficial relationship. It’s not. We’re not stupid.”

“It literally is,” Zayn seethes. “If I break the curse, it breaks for _everyone_. _Including you_. And Gigi’s supposedly fake story is quite literally the only reason why I haven’t just taken matters into my own hands yet.”

Everybody startles when Rue’s cries erupt from the bedroom -- _she probably needs a diaper change_ , Louis thinks idly. Zayn’s eyes have now moved from Harry’s to that bedroom door, and everyone takes a cautious step back, closer to the door, because of it. 

“I think she’s saying it’s time,” Zayn says. “Besides, I don’t think our packs would mix well, either.”

Louis’ arm flings over Harry’s chest as soon as Zayn’s hands go up, and before he can even think of what he could possibly do to stop what he fears is coming, everything goes black. 

-

He wakes up. 

The base of his skull pounds with hurt, his body is sore, and he can’t think properly at first. He doesn’t feel awake enough yet to open his eyes, but once the pieces of memory start to fall into place and he recognizes that the fabric his fingers are pressed against belongs to a shirt, the thought _Harry_ is what makes him jolt upright. 

The sight before him is staggering. Harry, Niall, Gemma -- _everyone,_ they’re all sprawled out onto the floor, limbs every which way, faces slack. Terrified, Louis brings his fingers to Harry’s wrist, desperate to feel a pulse, and --

“They’re not dead.”

Louis whips around to face the voice. It belongs to Gigi, who has a sleepy Rue in her arms. She’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay. 

“Give her to me,” Louis snaps. He has to step over bodies to get to them, and he’s ready to put up a fight to get Rue into his arms; Gigi hands her over to him right away, though, and she crosses her arms over her chest once they’re empty. Louis does a once over Rue, and she does look fine. Looking fine and being fine are two entirely different things, though. 

“I didn’t want to just leave her,” Gigi says, and Louis glares at her. He presses a protective hand over the back of Rue’s head and swears to himself that he’ll never let anyone else touch her ever again. 

“What did he _do_ to her?”

“The spell, obviously. And, well. It worked.”

The realization smashes against his skull all at once, and he turns around to stare down at the bodies beneath him. The _human_ bodies. He had obviously seen it, but -- and Gigi. She talked to him. _Talked._ This is -- fuck. The sun is up outside, it’s not the full moon anymore, and they’re all human. It worked. It _worked._

Behind him, Gigi starts to explain a little bit. “Zayn said you’d be the first one awake. He, um. He left right after he saw that the spell worked. So did Gracie. They wanted to get back to the others, but Rue was crying and. . . and I felt guilty.”

“You should,” Louis whispers. He lowers himself to the ground carefully, and he sets his hand against Harry’s cheek. He’s warm. His chest is moving. He just needs to wake up. 

“Zayn fixed Ben’s leg,” she says. She sounds small, like she really does feel bad for all of this. She should. The remorse is more than what Zayn could give, though. That counts for something. “I made him. He did a spell after the ritual, too, to make sure that Rue was okay, and she is. Perfectly, one-hundred perfect okay. So is everyone else, he checked. He healed Maggie, too, so all her soreness from labor is gone. And he said that he’ll send over some spells that might be helpful to you.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “I don’t want him coming back here ever again.”

“Yeah. I figured.”

He turns to look at her and briefly, there’s a hint of sympathy he feels towards her. It goes away quickly. “You should just go. There’s no way Harry will accept you into the pack after this, and,” he sighs. “And I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’d like to stay,” Gigi says. “My pack needs a leader now more than ever. A _good_ leader. One who’s kept his wits with him through this. And we need to start building lives for ourselves, before it gets taken away again.”

Louis sighs again and doesn’t offer another form of response. He doesn’t have to be the one to send her off; there are a dozen other people here who will wake up wanting to do nothing more than that. She doesn’t appear to be a threat, just an annoyance, so Louis will deal with it for now. 

“Did he say how long it would take for them to wake up?” he asks after twenty minutes pass and nobody has moved a muscle. Rue is sound asleep in his arms, and her father is only a couple feet away. 

“No. He just told me that you’d wake up first.”

The rest of the wait is spent in silence. An uneasy silence at that, because Louis is watching the clock and it won’t stop moving forward. It hits an hour after he’s woke, and nobody moves. They’re all still breathing, though, and he tries to hold onto that. 

It’s seventy-eight minutes after Louis woke when he notices that Harry’s chest is moving up and down quicker than it was before. His face is completely slack, but his chest is expanding with breaths that look nauseating. Louis touches his forehead, checking for a fever or something, and he glares daggers at Gigi. 

“You did the same thing before you woke,” she says. Louis glances down, and sure enough, wide, terrified eyes stare back at him. They’re the greenest they’ve looked in a long time. Louis doesn’t get too good of a look, though, because Harry lurches upright to wrap him and Rue up in a hug. The hug’s too tight for Rue and she cries, and Harry shushes her with whispered apologies and pleas, but his arms don’t loosen around Louis. 

“Is she okay?” he asks, fear clear in his voice. He pulls back to take her from Louis’ arms, and it is probably hard for him to believe that she’s okay when she’s crying. 

“She’s fine,” Louis promises. He squeezes the back of Harry’s neck and blinks back tears. It’s too soon to believe this is permanent, but even if it’s temporary, Louis can somehow deal with that. “I’ve been with her for an hour and a half almost, and she’s been completely okay. Gigi said that Zayn checked her out, too, and he said she was fine.”

At the mention of her name, Louis glances over at her. Harry frowns, his eyes following, and instantly, he looks dangerous. “Leave,” he snaps, and he shields Rue from her just like Louis did. “I mean it. I won’t hurt you, but I will not stop others from doing so.”

She frowns, although she doesn’t look too surprised. “I thought we could talk.”

“I’m the alpha of this pack, and I’m looking you in the eye right now and telling you that I will never, ever accept any of you into my pack. My _family._ Your _boyfriend_ could have killed us all.”

“But he didn’t.”

“Niall’s waking up,” Louis observes, watching Niall’s chest flutter like Harry’s did. Harry’s face twists with worry, and Louis strokes his fingers over the back of his neck, keeping him close. “I’d leave before he does. You fucked with his kid.”

Surprisingly, she leaves out the front door with a sigh. Only a minute after, Niall shoots up from the ground with a gasp. 

“It’s okay,” Harry says softly. He stands onto newly strong legs and crouches down beside Niall. Immediately, Niall takes Rue from him, and he cries as he kisses her cheeks and apologizes to her. “The pup is fine. So is everyone else. They’re just. . .” He glances around with a frown. “Sleeping, I guess.”

One by one, they all slowly rise awake. Maggie’s the next, and then Gemma, and then Ben. There’s been about a ten-minute gap between everybody, but after Ben gets up, everyone else starts popping up like flies. Except Liam. Liam lays there longer than anybody else, perfectly still and dead-like. The worry in all of them grows as the time goes by, and Harry sits beside him the whole time. With fingers pressed to the pulse point in Liam’s wrist, Harry sits there and stares down at him as though this is somehow his fault. 

When he finally wakes, a grin breaks out across Harry’s face and he pulls him up for a hug. Too quickly, judging by how disoriented Liam looks, and Harry doesn’t even seem to notice. 

Once everyone is on their feet and brought up to speed about what happened, they all sort of just. . . look at each other. They’re standing around the living room, and Harry is holding Louis tightly from behind, his chin resting on top of his head, so Louis can’t see his face, but he assumes that he’s just looking, too. What do they do now? If this nightmare is really over, where do they go from here? They’re not the same people anymore, not the same pack, and everything’s different. Nothing could ever force things to go back to the way they were before, with everyone blissfully ignorant and innocent, living on top of each other and dealing with puppy love. Everyone’s been forced to grow up, and now, they have to figure out what that looks like. 

“We should eat,” Harry says, and his voice is heavy. His arms tighten around Louis’ waist. “We need to eat, and then after a good night’s rest, we can talk about what comes next for us.”

-

“You know that the last thing I want to do is go and see my mum?”

They’re sitting at the end of the dock together, naked beneath a blanket. Louis’ leaned against his chest, and when he speaks, he looks up at him with a frown. “Why?” he asks, bringing his hand up to trace the line of his jaw. Harry leans into the touch.

“I’m different,” he says. “Changed. We all are. And if anybody’s going to realize just how much I’ve changed, it’s going to be Mum, and I just -- can’t deal with that. With the idea of her being disappointed in me.”

Louis’ frown deepens and he shifts around so he’s facing Harry. He’s slipped out of the blankets, but the cool air of the night is forgiving. “Why would she be disappointed in you? She’s missed you like mad.”

“Does she even know what I did?” Harry whispers, shame dancing with tears in his eyes. “That night, with Liam, I -- she doesn’t know what I did. Liam’s mum, too, she’s gonna know that I tried to kill her son, she’s -- ”

“Ava’s whole plan was meant to make you turn wild,” Louis says firmly, his hands coming up to frame Harry’s face. “She orchestrated all of this for that purpose. You and everybody else here spent _months_ dealing with this. _Years_ , Harry. One bad night does not erase every night that you guys curled up together to stay warm, or stayed up to teach each other how to hunt, or sat outside to just _be_ with one another. It doesn’t erase the fact that you made Maggie feel a million times better throughout her pregnancy, or how much you all care about each other, how loyal everyone is. That night was awful, Harry, I know. It was terrible and scary and it probably traumatized us all, but we have to heal from that, we have to.” He drops his hand to rest on Harry’s neck, the spot where the scar used to lay. “The physical scars went away, and we have to learn to let go of the mental ones, too.”

Harry closes his eyes, his wet eyelashes coming together. “I’m so scared that we’ll wake up tomorrow and this will all be a lie,” he whispers. “Or -- or a dream, or some fluke. That Zayn’s going to have to come back to take Rue, and I won’t,” his voice breaks, “I won’t be able to stop it and something’s going to happen to her this time, and -- and I couldn’t stop it today, Louis, I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t, and I’m supposed to be their _alpha_. That was my _job,_ and I _failed._ ”

Louis realizes for the first time, then, that the mental toll of this will be baggage that they all have to carry for a lifetime. 

“Today you fought like hell and tried your best, love. That’s what you did today.”

Harry shakes his head and tears leak from his clenched eyes. “My best wasn’t good enough.”

“Your best was your best,” Louis argues. He pulls Harry to his chest and he comes willingly; Harry hides his face against his neck and curls his arms around Louis' waist, protective and strong. “You aren’t a soldier, and I don’t ever want you to become one. You did all that you could have done today, and nobody thinks negatively of you. They’re your family, Harry.”

“I know,” he says, and his voice nearly gets lost in the wind because of how quiet it is. That’s how they all were tonight: quiet. During dinner, everything felt normal, but once the hours started to collect and a change never came, everyone got quiet. From fear or from joy or from something else, Louis doesn’t know. All he knows is that it was quiet. 

Harry presses his forehead against Louis’ shoulder and leaves a kiss there. “ _You’re_ my family.”

“Yeah,” Louis whispers, sliding his under the blanket to stroke Harry’s back. “Yeah, love. I am.”

-

It becomes glaringly obvious that everyone has different plans for the future. 

It should make sense, shouldn’t it; they had nearly three years to think about what they would do the minute that they were set free. None of their plans involve sitting here in a cramped cabin, sleeping on the floor and over top of one another. They should take a moment to celebrate, or at the very least to breathe, but everyone is too restless for that. How could they rest when only half the battle has been won?

London is on over half the pack’s agenda. People want to go back home, want to return to their city and walk the streets that are as much theirs as they are anybody else’s. People are willing to lose their lives to go back home. They won’t be pushed out any longer, not even if the plea of waiting comes from their alpha. Harry can’t take another loss anytime soon, he’s too fragile, but nobody seems to have the patience to wait on him. 

Maggie, Niall and Rue have decided to stay here, at the cabin. By themselves if needed, which Harry isn’t too keen on. It’s obvious that Harry wants nothing more than to stay here with them, to be right here to witness Rue grow up, but he can’t be selfish. He gave up that right the minute he attacked Liam to claim the title of the alpha. He has to make a decision for his pack, not just for himself. 

“Without Maggie and Niall, there’s only eleven of us,” Harry explains for what feels like the hundredth time. They’re all gathered in the living room, and Harry stands as he talks, too anxious to sit still. “Ten of us in a city that we don’t understand anymore versus -- what? Hundreds of pissed off vampires?”

“They’ve had a few years to calm down,” Ruth says. 

David says, “There could be five more of us if we wanted there to be. Good fighters, too.”

Harry looks at him with a mix of fury and shock on his face. To his credit, David doesn’t even flinch. “We aren’t even considering bringing Gigi and them into this pack. Not right now, at least. If we’re going back to London, we have to be prepared to fight, and we can’t do that if we have to worry about people in our own pack, too. Any of them could flip on us in a minute, _especially_ Zayn.”

“Zayn has enough power to protect us all,” David argues. “And he has a reputation. Would people fuck with us if they knew we’re attached to him?”

“Those people were in here forcibly taking our daughter from us _yesterday_ ,” Maggie snaps, offended. David averts his eyes and sinks into his seat, a little embarrassed. Harry’s eyes scan everyone’s faces, one by one, and after a long minute, he shakes his head. 

“I could consider taking in the wolves, but not Zayn. I don’t want him anywhere near us.”

“Well, I’m going to London no matter what,” Gemma says with a shrug. She doesn’t share any sympathy for her brother’s tough position. “Soon, hopefully. Within a week or two.”

Nick, David, Scott, Liam, Ruth and Nicola all nod in agreement. The _only_ person who has plans to go somewhere else other than London is Greg, who wants to get back to Ireland. Ben, Louis and Harry haven’t made a decision yet. 

“ _None_ of you want to stay here?” Harry asks quietly, almost sounding hurt. 

Ruth scoffs. “I watched my brother nearly bleed out to death on those steps.”

“Okay,” Liam says loudly after he shoots a glare at his sister. “Let’s say we all go to London. What do we do once we get there?”

Harry’s answer is immediate. “Stay together.” There's silence, and Harry’s eyes widen. “ _We’re staying together._ We’re -- no. Separating is _not_ an option. Maggie, Niall, Rue, Greg -- they’re already all going to be so far away. We can’t -- _I_ can’t take losing any more of you.”

“I think we should start off together,” Nick says slowly. He won’t look at Harry, which Louis understands. It looks like his heart is breaking right in front of him. “But after a while, after it’s safe to, if people want to go their separate ways, they should.”

“We’re a _pack_.” Harry’s voice sounds raw.

“It would be no different than when you moved out to live with Louis,” Scott points out. “Not all of us were living together before. We don’t have to now, either.”

Nick smiles, and it’s a little sad. “I love you all, but I definitely wouldn’t mind having some space. Just space, though, Harry. Not -- not a goodbye.” He snorts. “Hell, if we all moved into the same apartment building and just got different apartments, I think that’d be good for us.”

Harry doesn’t agree. He doesn’t agree at _all_. He’s worrying his lip between his teeth, eyes wide and eyebrows knitted together, with his fingers fumbling in front of him. He doesn’t want to be away from _any_ of them, let alone _all_ of them. If the time came where they had to separate, Harry could learn to be okay with only living with Louis, probably, but it’s clear he doesn’t see the need for a division. Is it realistic to all stay in one place, though? Louis’ not so sure of that, either. 

Insecurity bleeds through Harry’s tone as he says, “But how would we stay a pack if we’re not even together? Niall and Mags would be five hours away, Greg the same, that’s. . .”

“Freedom,” Scott fills in. “Which is what we’ve wanted this entire time, right?”

Harry shifts on his feet. “Yeah, but. . .”

“We stay a pack by staying close,” Ben says as an offer of some ex-alpha wisdom. “Like, _emotionally_ close. Not geographically.”

Harry stares out the window as he thinks it over; it’s almost like Louis can visibly see the thoughts going in circles in his head. This is arguably the first big decision Harry’s had to take charge of since he became the leader. Him signing off on anything puts the responsibility of anyone into his hands. With him wanting to stay, and his whole pack wanting to go -- it doesn’t bode well for Harry’s wishes. 

“I thought _you_ of all people would want a break from all of us,” Liam says. He sounds apologetic about it, like he feels bad for stirring even more things up in Harry’s head. Harry’s questioning gaze is heavy on Liam. “It’s just -- after everything happened, you know? I thought you’d want to get away from us the second you could to, like. . . sulk. Or reflect. Or both.”

Harry opens his mouth to speak, and before he can, Ruth butts in and says, “He doesn’t want _us_ to have space from _him._ ”

“Hey,” Liam stays sternly, at the same time Gemma and Louis shoot glares at her. Harry doesn’t need to be dog-piled on right now. It doesn’t look like he can take it. 

“I’m just saying,” she continues. “He’s scared that if we aren’t right under him, then we’ll get right over him. That we’ll have time to really _think_ about what he did that night -- because it seems like everyone got the fuck over it really fast -- and we won’t want to be anywhere near him again.”

There are so many different responses to that all at once, and all Louis does is stare at Harry as he tries to take them all in. 

“That’s a little harsh, Ruth,” from Niall.

“You aren’t scared of him. Quit pretending like you are only when it fits your narrative,” from Gemma. 

David says, “If anything, Harry’s not scary _enough_. Ben would already have us halfway to London by now,” and Greg shakes his head with an eye roll. Most everyone seems to be acting in Harry’s defense right now, except for Nicola and Ruth. It doesn’t matter how many people are on Harry’s side, though, not when the two who aren’t are this vocal about it. And Harry looks like he has no idea what to do, so Louis sits up and takes a deep breath. 

“None of us got over that night, first of all,” he says. “We just had a lot of things going on at once and that seemed like the least important one, after we knew everyone was going to be okay. Second of all, if you haven’t had time to think about what he did that night, then I don’t know what the fuck you’ve been doing for months, considering all you could _do_ was think.” He slumps back against the couch, finished, until, “Actually, you know what? Third of all, Liam has gotten the fuck over it and so should you. Fourth, you two never took accountability for your actions of that night, either. Should we all be scared of you two, too? ‘Cause you ganged up against him. Nic, you had your _teeth_ buried in his _back_. You’re quick to point out that Harry could’ve killed Liam -- yeah, well, you could’ve killed Harry, biting him that close to the spine when you _didn’t have to do it there_.”

“Lou,” Harry says, and Louis shakes his head. 

“And fifth or sixth or whatever the fuck of all, you said the first night that you guys wouldn’t let tensions between anyone of grow, and from where I sit, Harry’s done everything in his power to make it right and you two have been dragging it along for no good reason.” He raises his hands then dramatically. “Okay, now I’m done.”

Liam looks agitated, Ruth and Nicola look it even more so, and Harry looks like he could _cry_. He won’t, but still. Over it all, Louis looks down at his hands and starts messing with a hangnail on his thumb. 

Harry’s response takes a minute to come, and once it does, he manages to say exactly what he needs to. 

“We don’t need to rehash that night again,” he starts off, voice firm. “We’ve done it countless times already, and there’s no reason for it. Tonight, anyway. When we get back to London, we’ll all stay together for a least a month, maybe more depending on what happens once we’re there, and if during that time any of you feel like we need to talk about it more then, fine. We can do that.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “And Ruth, I don’t want to be away from any of you because the only thing that kept us alive the last few years was us being _together_. I. . . I don’t know, maybe I’ve forgotten how to be alone. I think we all might have. But if we promise each other that we’ll remain as close as possible, then I think -- I think that’s what would be best for everyone.”

There’s a pause, and then Nick says, “I promise I will do my very best not to shut any of you during my endless nights to the pub.”

Gemma snorts at him. “And I promise that I will try my hardest to avoid you, Harry, and fail doing so because Mum will have us home every weekend for dinner, anyway.”

Louis looks up just in time to catch Harry’s grin, and something settles deep inside of Louis. _Maybe he will be okay,_ he thinks. Louis didn’t realize that he feared he wouldn’t be until now. 

After everyone promises -- including Ben and Scott, who look like they’re silently judging everyone for making them do this -- Harry nods. He looks like he has his confidence back, with his shoulders square and eyes focused and hands by his side. 

“And I want everyone to come back here for the full moon.” He motions to Niall and Maggie and says, “This is a safe place to do it, and that way we won’t entirely miss out on Rue growing up.”

“There are so many closer places to do it, and I hate driving,” Nicola says. She doesn’t sound like she’s doing it just to spite Harry, though. Even if she might be, she tries not to make it seem like it. 

“I can take you,” Liam offers. 

Harry nods. “Since we were stuck here for so long, I think. . . I think it might do us good to come back here voluntarily. To, like, reclaim this place or something.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Nick says as he stands. He claps his hand together and grins. “So, when the fuck are we going home?”

-

On the second to last morning at the cabin, Harry takes a sleepy Rue out of bed, bundles her up, and wakes Louis up with a demand for a walk. 

Louis sits up from the couch and rubs at his eyes, exhaustion weighing him down. They got drunk last night -- properly, messily drunk. Nick’s legs are tangled up with his on the couch since they both passed out here at around the same time, which proves that he was super wasted. They’ll probably get just as drunk tonight as well. 

“You can’t just steal their baby,” Louis mumbles as he stretches out. “That’s kidnapping, babe.”

Harry rolls his eyes and re-positions his hold on Rue. “Arrest me, then. We’ll be waiting outside.” He leaves, the door shutting behind him quietly, and Louis sighs. He has no choice but to follow. So, he carefully gets off the couch, throws a jacket on and a pair of boots, and follows him out. 

Harry’s pointing at something ahead as he talks to Rue. She’s too young to even understand the concept of pointing, let alone know what he’s talking about in the slightest, but Harry doesn’t seem to mind. When Louis catches up to him by the lake, Harry turns to him with a sad look. 

“We used her to get what we wanted, and now we’re all leaving her. That’s not right.”

“ _Zayn_ used her,” Louis corrects. He puts his hand on Harry’s neck and leans in to kiss Rue’s cheek. She makes a cooing noise, one that pulls a smile from both of them. “And we aren’t leaving her. We’ll be back every month. I doubt Niall and Maggie want to live here forever, too. They’ll come to London eventually.”

Harry’s smile is gone far too soon. He doesn’t look happy at all. While everyone was celebrating last night, Harry was drinking, too, sure, but he was off to the side and quiet all night. He started whittling a fish, up until Louis confiscated his knife because he was too drunk to be trusted with it; after that, he sort of just sat there. 

He doesn’t want to go back to London. 

“I. . . I don’t know if I want to go back, Louis.” He tightens his hold on Rue, keeping her close, because after tomorrow, she’ll be hours away. “I have to. I know that. For them. And for you, probably. But I’m so sick of fighting, you know? And there’s no way _anybody_ will let us come back without having to say something about it first.”

Louis knows all of this, and he’s scared of it all just as much as Harry is. Harry’s right, though: it doesn’t matter what he wants. It’s about the pack as a whole, not just them. Louis would rather be there fighting with them rather than sitting around and waiting for news here, anyway. 

“It’ll be your head they come for, too,” Louis says quietly, because even though he knows they have to go, that doesn’t mean he has to pretend like he’s not worried about it. It should be acknowledged, the extra pressure on Harry’s shoulders. The extra incentive for his death. 

Harry nods. “Yeah. Yeah, and yours, too, if they can’t get to me first. Me, you, Gemma and Ben are all going to be targeted first, if anyone targets us at all.”

Rue makes an unhappy noise, then, and Harry hushes her. After pressing a kiss to her forehead, Harry pulls away and says, “I think the pup is telling us to shut up and get walking.”

And so they do. 

-

At seven the following night, everyone’s stuffed from dinner and packed and ready to go. Harry has Rue in his arms while everyone else chats excitedly about what they’re going to do once London proves to be a safe space for them again -- clubs and pubs and shopping malls. Since Louis gets the feeling that Harry isn’t going to be one to go out that much for a long time, he doesn’t mind that he isn’t contributing to the conversation much. Louis has his head on Harry’s shoulder as he watches Rue coo at nothing in particular when everyone suddenly goes quiet. Before Louis can ask why, headlights peer in through the window. 

“Who has better music taste, then?” Nick asks as he stands. “Anne or Jay?”

Gemma snorts and grabs a bag off the ground. “Definitely not my mum. You best stick with Louis.”

“I already said I’m taking Harry, Liam and David,” Louis says. He stands, too, while Harry doesn’t move from where he stares down at Rue. He’ll need a moment, probably. He’s not ready to see his mum. 

“Why not me?” Nick asks with a pout.

Louis rolls his eyes as he stretches out. They napped before dinner so they could make it back to London without having to stop in the middle of the night to rest. The plan is to get to Anne’s house before the sun comes up so their return can be kept as secretive as possible. In order to keep Anne safe, she and her cats will be moving in with Louis’ mum until things settle down. 

“Because you talk too much,” Louis responds finally, and he turns before he sees Nick scowl. Gemma leaves to go greet her mum, leaving Louis to be the one to coax Harry out. “Come on. Rue needs to eat by now, and your mum is going to be upset if you don’t come say hi.”

Before Louis has to say anything else, Gemma pulls open the door enough to say, “Hey, we have a problem. About five of them,” before shutting the door again. Immediately, Harry hands Rue off to Niall, Niall and Maggie retreat to the bedroom, and the pack files outside with Harry in front. Louis gets pushed to the back, a bit, so he hears Harry before he sees the problem. 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Louis makes his way down the steps, and the first thing he notices is that there are three sets of headlights, not just the two. And then he notices that the third pair belongs to an old Mustang, and he’s not surprised to see that Zayn is the one to lean against it. Both their mums are near him, clearly having just talked to him, and they look confused. 

Harry breaks from the group to stride forward, a finger coming up to jut at Zayn. “I _told_ you to stay away,” he snaps. “You got what you wanted, so _stay away_.” Harry turns to Anne and Jay and quietly tells them to go up to the cabin. Anne fights harder than Jay, who silently does as she’s told. She’s well accustomed to this by now. 

Once she’s close enough, Jay grabs Louis and pulls him into a hug. “Who is that?” she asks in a whisper. “He said he was a friend, he said -- ”

“You two should go inside,” Louis interrupts as he pulls back from her. “He’s, um. He’s not a friend, he’s an ass, and you two should go inside. Go on, go meet Rue.”

“If he’s dangerous,” Anne starts, and Louis shakes his head, already knowing what she’s about to say. 

“Then Harry’s the best one to take care of it. Go on, go inside. We’ll catch up later.”

They listen, and when Louis can turn his attention back to the matter at hand, he notices that Gigi and a man have gotten out of the car. Louis doesn’t mean to meet her stare, and he regrets it even more when she takes that as a sign that she can approach them. Before she can even try, Harry’s snaps at her and tells her not to take another step. 

Zayn shoves at his shoulder. “Yell at my girlfriend again, mate, and I’ll go and see how Louis over there likes it, yeah?”

“Oh, fuck this,” Gemma hisses. She crosses the few yards between the two groups and she throws her arms up. “What are you doing here? Explain, quickly. We have places to be.”

“I know,” Zayn says. “London. That’s why we are here.”

She waves her hands in the air again. It’s a testimony to how sick and tired everyone is of being out of control, and Louis hates it. They can’t go back to London with behavior as reckless as this. “Okay, _why?_ ”

“Because we need a pack,” Gigi says, “and you guys need protection. It’s a win-win.”

Harry scoffs. “Yeah, if I was an idiot.”

“Great, so it’s settled,” Zayn says with a grin. “Since you _are_ an idiot, that is.”

There are some heated arguments between the four of them that Louis doesn’t have the emotional capacity to handle. It feels like all they do is argue anymore, or discuss things to no end. With half of the pack’s issues, he doesn’t even feel like he gets to have a say, so he doesn’t say much, and it’s getting tiring. It’s _been_ tiring. They can’t even make it back to London before someone unwanted already shows up on their doorstep. Zayn has proved time and time again that this pack isn’t as intelligent or strategic as they once thought themselves. Zayn knew when -- _the exact time_ \-- they were planning to leave. If Zayn knows, who else could?

“What sneaky reason could they have to want to be a part of this pack?” Louis turns to Nicola and asks in a whisper. “They’re different from us, sure, but if they’re offering us protection. . . And I don’t see why they would lie to get with us now that they don’t have a motive to.”

“See, I knew Louis was the smart one,” Zayn says, roughly at the same time that Harry scolds, “ _Louis._ ”

Gigi takes a deep breath before she marches up towards them, straight for Louis. She looks determined, as does the man who follows her and shoves at Harry’s arm when he tries to stop them. Harry watches them, uncertain, before his eyes fall back onto Zayn, and they sharpen again. He won’t leave the big, bad wolf to go deal with two seemingly harmless ones. 

“This is Mika,” Gigi says as the man besides her waves his hand. 

“We’re the nice ones,” he jokes, and given the context, it doesn’t go over very well. He frowns when nobody laughs. “Bella’s nice, too. It’s just Gracie that’s a bit of a prick. Which -- hello.” He points to Harry, and then to Ben, and _that_ pulls a laugh out of Nick, who doesn’t even look apologetic for it. 

“I’ve been stuck with girls for almost three years,” Mika continues. “Zayn only came to visit us, like, once or twice a month. And Gigi might be an alpha, but she’s not _the_ alpha. She doesn’t even do anything, and we think Harry would be someone we could learn to follow.”

Gigi nods. “We were relieved when Ben stepped down. Although, to be fair, we were hoping it would’ve been Liam who won, because Liam probably would’ve taken us in by now.”

“How long have you been watching us for, exactly?” Ben asks with a frown. Mika and Gigi look at each other before shrugging. 

“How long was Maggie pregnant for? Eight months? So, like. . . yeah. Eight months. Plus after the baby was born, so really, like ten or eleven.”

“Some witch you are, Tomlinson,” Ben says with a huff. He leaves the group to go inside, and Louis absolutely does not argue with him over his capabilities compared to someone four times his age. There’s no point.

“Alright,” Harry shouts. Everyone watches him leave Zayn to come stand by Gigi and Mika. His face is flushed with anger and his arms are crossed over his chest, hands tucked into fists. “You have a minute to plead your case, and then we’re going to vote. And if we vote no, then you _leave_ and don’t come back. And if we vote yes, you have to guarantee that you’ll protect us _with your lives_ in London. And the minute Zayn uses magic against one of us for some sadistic reasoning, you’re out. The minute Zayn hurts someone in the pack, or someone we care about, or just some innocent person on the street _: you are out_.” Harry shakes his head as he looks at Gigi, at a loss. “So even if we vote you in, it’s only a matter of time before you’re out because you chose to date that prick over there.”

Louis looks over Harry’s shoulder to see Zayn wave with a grin. He’s such a horrible, horrible person, such a fucking dick, but he’s -- goddammit, he’s _good_ at it.

“And you have to vouch for everyone,” Harry snaps. “If Gracie is as much as a devil as you all make her out to be, then she’s not welcome.” He steps in line next to Louis and huffs. “Go. Start. You have a minute.”

Gigi makes her statement quickly and without stuttering. She makes point after point, and they all listen intently. She re-explains their problem of being vulnerable due to their low numbers and the issue of reproducing within a pack -- something that is apparently very important to them. There were others, apparently, who died throughout the years in various ways, before and during the curse. They don’t want to lose anyone else, and they fear they will the second they go back to London and only have four other people to watch their backs. 

The part that seems to get a few people is when she says, “Me, Gracie, Bella and Mika will be loyal to you, Harry, and Zayn will be loyal to me. It’s -- yes, he’s an idiot and he’s hard to deal with when you don’t know him, but he’ll do _anything_ to protect me and the people I care about. You’d become those people the second you let us align with you.”

As soon as her minute is up, Harry interrupts her to let her know. He looks at everybody, then, and tells them to vote. Those in favor of accepting them raise their hand, and Louis’ surprised by who and how many raise their hands. Nick, Ruth, Gemma, David and Liam all raise their hands the first time around, and there’s a mutual understanding that Maggie, Greg and Niall are all on the opposing side. After a second, Scott sighs and raises his hand, too. 

Ruth glances at Nicola. “If we can trust Harry, we can trust them. There’s enough room for more snakes in the nest.”

Harry and Louis roll their eyes simultaneously, and it gets Nicola to raise her hand in favor of them. So, it doesn’t matter what anybody else has to say, then. Majority rules, and all that. Louis, Harry and Ben don’t have to cast their votes. Still, Harry's eyes fall on him. He looks pleading, and Louis doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he needs to stop looking for answers in everyone else now. 

“Lou?”

Louis shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. Majority rules, right?”

“Still, though. I want to know what you have to say.”

Louis thinks about it long and hard, because he doesn’t know. He really doesn’t. There doesn’t seem to be a right answer here; everywhere they look, there are looming risks. After a minute, he lets out a long sigh and shrugs. “Friends close and enemies closer, right?”

It does what it needs to do, which is make the tension in Harry’s posture lessen. He nods at him before he turns to Gigi and Mika, who look hopeful. 

“Three things,” Harry says, as authoritatively as Louis has ever heard him be. It’s. . . it’s not even intimidating, not to Louis. It’s a proud moment. “One: you keep control of Zayn. If there’s a problem, you tell me about it right away.”

She nods. 

“Two: this cabin, this family -- they stay hidden. Protected. With one of Zayn’s spells, not with Louis’. And if there’s ever a mention of anyone here, or this place, you do everything in your power to protect the three of them.”

Again, she nods.

“Three,” Harry continues. His eyes narrow. “If Louis dies, so do you. If my sister dies, so does yours. Call it an eye for an eye, yeah?”

He doesn’t wait for her to nod, then, before he moves around them to head to the cabin, leaving them all to wonder how serious he is about that. It’s a sort of fucked up, scary thing to threaten, but Louis can’t deny that it’s a smart way to keep them incentivized. They heard about how Harry’s teeth were dug into Liam and how he won over three wolves. Louis wouldn’t take that threat lightly if he were them. 

Gigi eyes Louis carefully, and Louis stares back at her with the same idea: his life depends on hers, and vice versa. Zayn would be overjoyed to get to reverse Harry’s threat on him if Gigi was to get hurt, wouldn’t he? Harry might’ve not thought it through all the way, or maybe he did and thought the risk would be worth it. Either way, he just put a target on Louis’ back, just above the armor he provided with the same threat. Same with Gemma. 

Zayn strides towards them with that same stupid grin on his face. He says to Louis, “I guess we’ll just have to be besties, then, because with that mediocre threat hanging over Gigi’s head, you’re never going to be able to get rid of me.”

-

The entire way back to London, Harry drives with his fists tight around the wheel, his shoulders tense, and adds barely any input into any of the conversations going on around him. He’s stressed about London, and now Zayn, it’s -- Louis wasn’t surprised when Harry nearly demanded that he drove Louis’ car, just so he could have a little bit of control of the situation. He also wasn’t surprised when Zayn sped ahead to get the lead; Harry wants control, and Zayn likes to deny him every bit of it that he can. 

They’re part of the pack now, so Louis knows he needs to give them all the benefit of the doubt, and that includes Zayn. That’s what they _all_ need to do, if they want this to work. Because if this doesn’t work, if the two packs can’t coincide, well. Zayn would then have a very good reason to take his murderous rage out on all of them, wouldn’t he? They made a deal with the devil, practically, except this devil comes with four decent werewolves. 

“You should sleep,” Harry tells him as they enter the third hour of driving. David and Liam are curled up together in the back, and it made Louis wonder how Harry was almost the only one who panicked at the idea of separation. 

Louis glances at him and shifts to try and get some blood to flow back to his legs. This ride never gets easier. “Yeah, and you should stop strangling the steering wheel. It’s not Zayn’s neck, and it’s going to give you cramps.”

There’s a pause, a small smile, and then, “I’m serious, though.” The smile fades, and Louis can’t be sure it was ever there in the first place. “I’m not sleeping tonight, and there’s nobody else I would like to keep my company. I’ll get bored with anyone else.”

“Like I’ll be able to sleep at all with you and Zayn under the same roof, either.”

A long breath draws itself from Harry’s lungs, and his grip gets that much tighter. Louis reaches over to pry one of his hands of the wheel and sets it on his own knee. He pats it and says, “It’s like you’ve forgotten how to be a good boyfriend.”

“Shut up,” Harry grumbles, that same small smile creeping back. His hand slides up to rest on Louis’ thigh instead, and he lets out another sigh. “Everyone seems to think we can just go back and live normal lives again. Makes me feel insane, like I’m the only one who can’t even picture what that used to look like.”

They’ve had some variation of this conversation a lot in the last week since the curse has been broken, but Louis still isn’t tired of the opportunity to reassure him. “You’ve been through extensive trauma and isolation. Of course the idea of society scares you. I’m sure it scares everyone else, too.”

Harry sniffs. “I caused my own extensive trauma. So, like. Doesn’t feel like it counts.”

“What, you were the witch who -- ”

“Shh,” Harry interrupts, and his fingers squeeze Louis’ thigh. “Not what I meant and you know it.”

Louis hums quietly. “Yeah, I know.” He shrugs and shifts around again, desperate to get comfortable. He can’t imagine how Harry’s body must feel, how hard it’s begging him to take a break from driving. He won’t, so Louis doesn’t even ask. “Look. If everything fails, we go back to the cabin.”

“And lead our enemies back to Rue? Yeah, no. Besides, it’s -- half of them are looking for a fight.” He tears his eyes away from the road just for a second, and fear is evident in them. “Ruth and Nicola are seething. At me, sure, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind taking it out on someone else. And Gemma -- you saw how she just marched right up to Zayn like she didn’t care what he would try to do.”

“So did you,” Louis points out. 

“Because that’s my job now,” Harry responds calmly. “And there are those of us who won’t start a fight, but that doesn’t mean we will willingly walk away from one. Again. If there’s a fight, then there’s no retreating this time. We will have to push through it. And after the fights in London, after we left, we went through this whole thing without losing people, Lou, the _whole_ curse, and I will be pissed if going back home ruins that.”

“Sounds like a lot of ifs, babe.”

“A lot of ifs with years of history and tension to back them up.”

Abruptly, Louis offers, “I can join a coven. We already have the fuckin’ devil on our side, might as well add a witch-y little cult, too.”

“You have made fun of covens your entire life.”

Louis shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I can’t benefit from them now.”

“Will they take you in if they find out you’re working with Zayn? Because he’s offended every single community in London, including the witches, and he uses his magic for harm.”

That gets Louis to quiet down. He didn’t really think of that, how Zayn will change how everyone else sees them. Some will see it as enough of a reason to leave them be, while others will see it as an even better reason to come for them. Witches probably don’t want to get involved with Zayn Malik’s messiness. 

“Why do any of our species have morals, anyway?” Louis asks grumpily. “Maybe Ava was right. Maybe we should all just go back to our savage ways and just throw, like, boulders at each other every time we get mad.”

“Maybe Zayn was right,” Harry bites back. “Maybe all you needed was a few more months to go crazy like she did.”

Louis huffs. “I liked it better when you weren’t talking.” To show he’s only messing around, he grabs Harry’s hand off his thigh and leaves a kiss on the back of his hand. He needs to be constantly reassured, Louis is pretty sure, and maybe that isn’t the best quality for an alpha to have, but Louis won’t acknowledge it. Harry’s allowed to feel insecure right now. 

Ten minutes later, Zayn’s blinker signals that he’s going to pull to the side of the road. Harry clenches his jaw and mumbles, “Think we should just go ahead?”

“No. Pull over and see what they want.”

Harry sighs, flicking his blinker on unreasonably loud. Loud enough to wake both Liam and David in the back, and they ask why they’re pulling over, to which Harry says that he doesn’t fucking know. Louis idly wonders if Harry’s this angry at Zayn because he knows there’s nothing he can do about it; in no world does Harry’s strength outweigh Zayn’s. 

Eventually, all four cars are pulled out to the side of the road, and Harry’s shoving the door open to storm over to Zayn, who’s leisurely getting out of his own car. Louis debates following, unsure if he’s in the mood to deal with their power struggle, and his legs’ plea for movement wins. 

“What part of _‘stay discreet’_ did you not understand?” Harry snaps at Zayn, who leans against the side of his car and pulls out a cigarette from his pocket. “There’s nothing discreet about four cars pulled over to the side of the road in the middle of the night.”

“Mika had to piss, mate. What did you want me to do about that?” He motions behind him to Mika, who is already peeing on the side of the road. Some of the others are doing the same, and something about it makes Louis laugh. Pack bonding, that’s what that is. 

“Well, it looks like we have a few minutes to catch up now, don’t we?”

Louis glances at Anne, while Harry stays facing away from. They didn’t really talk before they hit the road. Harry had said that they were already behind schedule, and that they’d have time to talk when they got back to London. It was obvious he was just avoiding her, something he can’t do right now when half his pack is on the side of the road with their pants down. 

After a few seconds, Harry rips his eyes from Zayn and turns around to face his mum. He looks like he’s bracing himself for a blow that Louis wants to tell him that won’t come so long as his mum stays in the dark about what happened that night. She doesn’t know anything. 

At least, she didn’t before the drive. Louis didn’t realize how bad of an idea it was to stick Ruth and Nicola with her. Louis looks for them, and sure enough, they’re staring at Anne and Harry with hard gazes. They definitely said _something_. Or will the second they can. 

There’s no reason for her to bring it up now, Louis thinks as he watches Harry pull his mum in for a tight hug. Or ever. Over his mum’s shoulder, Harry’s eyes are locked into Louis’, wide and worried. Then they scan over to Liam’s sisters, and he closes them and tucks his face against his mum’s shoulder. Slowly, the tension fades from his demeanor. As much as it ever could right now, anyway. 

And then Anne whispers, just barely loud enough for Louis to hear it, “No matter what happened out there, Harry, you’ll always be my baby.”

Like he’s been burned, Harry pulls away from her. He tries to walk away entirely, but his mum’s hands are tight on his elbows and the last thing he’d do right now is move in any sort of aggressive way. He does look away, though, his eyes trained somewhere far away. Even when she asks him to look at her, he doesn’t. 

“Gemma explained, okay, and it’s -- ”

“Mum.” His voice is edgy and quiet. “Please don’t.”

“It’s okay, honey.”

“Is it?” Harry asks sharply. He does look at her, then, and the intensity of it makes Louis’ gut churn. “If Liam had done that to me, you’d be giving him an ear full right now. I am so _sick_ of talking about this.” Her grip has lessened on him, probably from shock, so Harry pulls his arms away and walks the short distance to Louis’ car. As he yanks the door open, he points an accusing finger at Liam’s sisters and snaps, “At least I had the guts to do something to get what I wanted. Since you clearly won’t listen to me, or any of us for that matter, you need to either come at me again and see what happens or shut your fucking mouths.” 

It’s how Gemma ends up riding with them the rest of the way to London, her spot in Anne’s car being replaced with Liam, who wasn’t very happy with Harry’s direct threat against his sisters. Zayn was amused by it, of course, and he joked that he was already beginning to like Harry. 

The car is silent for exactly five minutes once they start driving again, and then Gemma says from the back seat, “ _‘Come at me_ ,’ huh? I don’t think ‘twelve-year-old boy on the playground at school’ was the tone you were going for, but that’s what you got.”

David snorts. 

“Gemma,” Louis says with a tired sigh. “Don’t rile him up.”

“Oh, he’s already plenty riled up.”

“Because they won’t _shut up_ ,” Harry defends. He runs a shaky hand through his hair and shrugs jerkily. “I don’t know what else to do. They’re not even hurting my feelings anymore, they’re just annoying the fuck out of me. I don’t need to worry about them, too, not on top of everything else.”

“Zayn said he likes you, at least,” Gemma says, and Louis doesn’t have to turn around to know she’s grinning. Harry rolls his eyes and hits a button on the radio in a clear attempt to turn it on. It fails, because the controls on Louis’ car have always been different than Harry’s and he hasn’t been in a car in a long time. Louis turns it on for him, and Harry mumbles out a thanks. 

-

Nobody says a word as they drive through the streets of London. They’re too scared to alert someone to their arrival before they’re even settled down. Harry doesn’t even comment on the fact that, for some reason, Zayn didn’t need instructions to his mum’s house. He pulls into the right driveway and everything. 

Zayn and Harry are the first ones to get out of the car, and they meet in the middle. The darkness of night conceals the stress in Harry’s posture that Louis has had to stare at all night. He’s thankful for it. They go into the house together after going to Anne’s car to get Zayn’s invitation inside, probably to do a quick sweep of it, and once they’re done, Harry comes over to open Louis’ door. 

“Come on,” he whispers. 

Everyone piles out of their cars and into the house, including their mums. They need to be included on the plan, too. Nobody is blind to the fact that they might be harmed just for their connection with the pack. 

Louis prays that they’ll feel like idiots for all these precautions in a few days, once they realize that nobody actually cares that they’re back. 

“Zayn’s going to secure the house,” Harry tells everyone once they’re all gathered around the living room. It’s been so long since they’ve been in this house, and yet Harry nor Gemma takes the time to think about that. One day things won’t have to be so complicated all the time again. “He’s going to make it so nobody that isn’t us can come in, and he’ll do the same thing for your house, Jay.”

Louis frowns at the reminder that Zayn knows how to do so many useful things that Louis didn’t even know were possible until now. It’s not his fault, he knows that, but he once thought of himself as a capable witch. 

“Me and Zayn are going out into the city tomorrow,” Harry says, and Louis looks at him sharply. He doesn’t know when they had time to make a decision as stupid as that. Yeah, Zayn’s a lot more powerful than them, but he’s on a level playing field with a lot of people in this city. Zayn Malik parading around with any alpha would be enough to cause talk -- exactly what they don’t need right now. 

Ben agrees. “That’s stupid. We shouldn’t split up, and you shouldn’t be announcing that we’re here like that. Seems hostile, like you're making a statement we can’t back up.”

“We’ve already ran away with our tails between our legs once. We’re not doing that again,” Harry says, voice stern. He glances all around, taking in everyone’s faces, which doesn’t make him look as confident as he sounds, but Harry’s new at this. His eyes stay on Gracie and Bella the longest, who are sitting on the couch, looking mostly disinterested. On the contrary, Mika and Gigi look just as worried as everyone else. 

“He’s not wrong,” Liam says. “If we look weak, it might make them more inclined to bother us. Vampires will be more likely to leave us alone if they think the fight won’t be fun for them.”

“Is he your second in command, then?” Gracie asks, turning to look at him. “Liam, I mean.”

Louis hasn’t thought about it, and he doesn’t think Harry has, either. So he’s surprised when Harry answers easily with a, “No, Louis is.”

Gracie looks amused, and Louis doesn’t take his eyes off of her. He could have guessed that she’d take the piss out of that, so it doesn’t hurt him. He doesn’t want to see what anyone else has to think about that, especially when he doesn’t even know how _he_ feels about it. It makes sense, though. Harry doesn’t trust anyone more than he trusts Louis. That’s as deep as it has to go.

“You’d rather have a mediocre witch as your second instead of, I don’t know, literally anybody else? Ben’s completely healed now, thanks to Zayn, so I think -- ”

Harry interrupts Gracie with a scoff. “Yeah, because I care so much about what you think. Anyway.” He turns his attention back to the whole group. “I want everyone to stay put for at least a few days. Zayn said he’ll keep his ear to the ground to see if us being here causes talk. And if it doesn’t, we’ll eventually start going out in groups.”

Nobody looks happy about that, but nobody argues, either. 

“We need to be as tight-knit as possible right now,” Harry continues, and Louis’ eyes instinctively move to Ruth and Nicola. They seem to hear the insinuation, too. “I don’t want to have to worry about any of you on top of all this. The only way we get through this is together. And now that that includes Gigi and them, we have to try and be open to them, too.”

The door opens, and Zayn steps in. “Even me?”

“No,” Harry says immediately, and if Louis’ not mistaken, there’s already the smallest sliver of amusement in his voice. Harry and Zayn will probably never become friends, but maybe they can learn how to be a painless thorn in each other’s side. 

“Alright,” Harry says with a deep breath. “Let’s just try and relax tonight, yeah? We’re back home. Let’s try to enjoy it as much as we can.”

-

Harry and Louis spend the whole night sitting at the kitchen table. There’s a deck of cards in between them for a few hours, and an old crossword at one point. When everyone has officially fallen asleep, Ben and Gracie being the last two to hold out, Harry tugs Louis’ chair over to his and kisses him for what feels like an eternity. Most of the pack is downstairs so not everyone’s cramped up here, and Gemma and Harry’s rooms have been filled, too, meaning this is probably the most privacy they’ve had to do this in a long time. A _long_ time. The deck was not all that far away from the cabin, and when Harry and Louis did have sex there, most of everyone was awake and able to hear them. Louis learned not to care, but he prefers it like this. 

All they do is kiss for ages, because Harry makes a joke that he won’t be caught with his pants down if something were to happen. It’s enough, though. It’s more than enough. Because for hours, Louis was able to spend time with him that wasn’t around a dozen other people or that came with a time limit. 

This could all be over tomorrow, but at least they have tonight. 

When tomorrow does come and Louis is watching Harry button up one of Louis’ shirts that’s too tight on his shoulders, he tries to remember that everything’s going to be fine. Zayn and Harry are going out for an hour, tops, and they’re going to a bloody grocery store, not anywhere insane. Nothing will happen while they’re out, but it might cause trouble to come for them later. That’s what they’re trying to do, test the waters. Louis gets it, but it doesn’t mean that he can’t be worried. 

“How do we know this isn’t Zayn’s way of getting you alone?” Louis whispers as he steps closer, the want to touch too strong to ignore. He brushes Harry’s hands away to take over with the buttons, and Harry shrugs. 

“I don’t believe a word out of his mouth, but I do trust Gigi a bit, so. I guess we’ll just have to see.”

That’s not particularly comforting, is it? Louis finishes the buttons and slides his hands down Harry’s chest with a huff. “Just be safe, okay? If there’s trouble, just leave.”

“Yeah, ‘course. I’m not planning on dying for this. I don’t want to be in London bad enough for that.” His pack does, which is the only reason why he’s even risking this at all. That’s all he means by it, and Louis knows that, but he also knows that if Harry _does_ die for this, then the seed of resentment he just planted in Louis’ chest will grow and cause him to lash out at everyone else, throwing blame every which way.

“Might be nice to be out in society again,” Louis says in an attempt to keep things light. Harry hums and grabs his hands. 

“Yeah, maybe.”

With that, he kisses the side of Louis’ mouth and steps around him. He’s not as worried about this as Louis had thought he would be, and maybe that’s a good thing, or maybe that means he’s hiding it. Louis won’t get to figure it out, either, because he can’t come. He’s stuck here, while Zayn and Harry go out there. 

-

“Zayn has a lot of friends here.”

Louis turns around to see Gigi leaned against the kitchen door frame. He came in here a few minutes ago when the tightness in his chest started to grow past the point where he could hide it. It’s just -- it’s been nearly two hours now since the two of them left. Harry promised he would be back in an hour, and he hasn’t texted or called and neither has Zayn. 

“What?” he asks. 

She shrugs clumsily. It must suck to feel so left out of everything. Mika is fitting in effortlessly, while Bella and Gracie aren’t trying to and Gigi can’t find her fitting in the group. Or, to tell the truth, the others won’t let. She has tried to jump into conversations more than a few times, and it always gets awkward and quiet. Louis doesn’t know if it’s because she was the alpha of a pack or it’s because she’s with Zayn; either way, Louis did start to feel bad for her after a while today. 

“Zayn,” she repeats. “He has a lot of friends here. So, like. If they’re in trouble, they aren’t alone in it. If they aren’t, Zayn is just probably catching up with some old friends and lost track of time.”

“He has a lot of enemies, too, from what I gather.”

She looks embarrassed, and that’s -- Louis couldn’t hold the weight of all of Zayn’s troubles. He’s glad Harry is mostly well-behaved. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I just think he’d call, is all,” Louis says with a small shrug. He doesn’t want to make her feel any worse than she already does. The period of change is hard on all of them. Her shoulders fall like she hadn’t thought of that, and because Louis doesn’t want to keep talking about all of this heavy shit, he changes the topic. “How’d you and Zayn meet, then?”

Her face lights up, and as she talks about him, Louis realizes that she holds all of his heavy baggage because she really, truly loves him. And he’s sweet, apparently, which Louis absolutely can’t imagine but he’s sure it helps her deal with him when he’s being a jackass. 

Gigi’s in the middle of telling the story of how Zayn became a vampire and didn’t lose his magic -- and shit, Louis is going to pick his brain the second he can stand being around him for more than a few minutes -- when she suddenly turns and says, “I think they’re home.”

And then the door opens, and Harry’s harsh, “I thought you were actually going to let them _murder_ me,” makes Louis’ gut twist. He and Gigi exchange a quick look before they head to the living room. 

The first thing he notices is the dark bruise blooming around Harry’s right eye, and then his eyes drop to the bruise on his jaw, and then back up to Zayn’s perfectly clean face. Zayn’s a half-vampire so he heals almost immediately, but still. 

“What happened?” Louis asks, panic kicking up in his gut. Harry rolls his eyes and kicks off his shoes. He looks furious. 

“We got cornered,” he explains, and then, “Well, _I_ did, because the second trouble came along, Zayn disappeared.”

Zayn crosses the room to reach Gigi. He pulls her in for a quick kiss before he glances at Louis and says, “I came back for him.”

“Why’d you leave him in the first place?”

It’s Gemma, who leads the rest of the pack into the living room. There are so many people all in one small room that it adds to the nausea in his stomach, and he finally gains the ability to get his feet to move. Harry doesn’t look seriously hurt, but it’s still a shock to see when he was supposed to come back with groceries, not a black eye. 

“Are you okay?” Louis asks, and Harry nods as he pulls him into his side. Touching Harry makes him settle down a bit, so Louis looks back at Zayn, who’s staring at Gemma with disinterest. 

“ _Your_ kind happened, thanks,” Zayn says with a snort. “There were, like, twenty of them, and I was not in the mood to deal with a werewolf bite today.”

“And _I_ was?” Harry asks hotly. 

Zayn rolls his eyes. “You wouldn’t have died if you got bit. I couldn’t say the same.”

“Wait, you were attacked by _werewolves?_ ” Ben asks, and right, yeah, that doesn’t make any sense. Louis can’t think properly right now. “Why, because of Zayn?”

Harry shakes his head. “No. Apparently, the werewolves who weren’t affected by the curse made a deal with the vampires: they can stay, so long as they don’t cause any problems. And their way to uphold that deal was to immediately jump me in the middle of the street before explaining anything to me, I guess.”

“Well, that’s a good thing, right?” Nick asks. Harry’s eyes snap over to glare at him, and Nick holds his hands up in defense. “Not the whole you getting jumped part, the part in which we can stay as long as we don’t cause trouble. That’s good, right?”

“No, because apparently we’ve already caused trouble,” Harry snaps, his voice low and dangerous. 

“Because of Zayn?” Ben assumes again. 

“No, actually,” Harry says, his gaze landing on Gigi. It’s cold and accusing. “Gigi, Bella. When were you going to tell me that your mother murdered the entire council only a few months ago?”

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next and final part coming saturday :) your comments are always so sweet, thank you thank you <3


	5. chapter five

-

For an entire hour, they argue about what to do next. 

Some think that the sisters’ mum’s murder-spree is enough to get them all booted from the pack, others think that the council has never done fuck all for them anyway and don’t understand why they should care. The rest are just so, _so_ sick of all these non-stop arguments. (Louis is the rest.)

Gigi is incredibly apologetic -- desperate, really -- while Bella is defensive and angry. Zayn, of course, advocates for them and claims that he doesn’t understand the big deal, which is probably true. You’d have to have empathy and morals to understand why one committing mass-murder would be something that is looked down upon. 

The bickering is loud and messy and completely unproductive. Opinions don’t necessarily matter here, and nobody seems to understand that. The only thing that matters to Louis is this: if Gigi and Bella leave the pack, will the rest of them be granted the opportunity to stay? If so, then that’s what they should do. If not, then Gigi and Bella will stay, because they come with Zayn and Zayn will figure out a way to keep them safe here. Louis tries saying as much, but after an offended look from Gigi, a threat from Bella, and being almost completely ignored by everyone else, he gives up and stays quiet. 

It’s not that nobody ever listens to him, it’s just that everybody likes to listen to themselves too much, and they have a much stronger will to argue than Louis does. 

It’s after Ruth snaps at Harry with a cruel, “Since when does violence not have a place in this pack? If that’s enough to get them kicked out, then how the hell are you the one leading us?” when Harry finally has enough with everyone’s opinions. 

“ _Enough,_ ” he seethes, almost in a shout. Everyone stares at him, and he shakes his head. “I’m meeting with the council tonight. I’ll vouch for Gigi and Bella, strictly due to the protection Zayn can provide us. If my word isn’t enough, then you’re gone. Sorry.”

There’s immediate disapproval from nearly everyone, each person having a different issue with what he said. Even Louis has something to say, because Harry didn’t mention until now that he’s going to go and meet with the council, the very people who had a big part in starting this whole thing. (Well, not the same people, since those people are no longer alive. But they’re a part of the same system.) Gigi’s is the only one that Harry seems to care about. 

“I thought we were a part of your pack. I thought you _protected_ your pack.”

Harry stares at her a moment before he shakes his head. “It’s you guys versus my boyfriend and my sister and my best friends. Don’t pretend like that decision wouldn’t be easy for you, too.”

There’s another cluster of noise, which Harry ignores in favor of going back out to the car, mumbling something about the groceries. 

-

Despite Harry’s clear vote against the idea -- he even used that whole, “I’m the alpha, and I said no,” bullshit -- the entire pack comes with him to his meeting with the council. Louis wanted to come, too, because the idea of sixteen people staring back at Harry was one he couldn’t stomach, so he didn’t take Harry’s side in that fight and he didn’t care that Harry looked upset about it. 

The council holds its meetings in a discreet bagel shop, apparently, and when Nick makes a joke about this, Harry shoots him a glare and tells him that it isn’t the time. 

“You’re no fun anymore,” Nick shoots back, and he sort of looks like he actually means it. Louis can understand it; Harry’s default mood when he’s under stress is moodiness, and he’s been under a shit ton of it, so. 

The shop is empty and dark, and Harry has his jaw clenched so hard that it must be sore. Patience isn’t his strong suit, and neither is it Louis’. Fortunately, they don’t wait long. Two minutes after they walk into the shop, a door opens, a light clicks on, and a woman who just _screams_ vampire greets them. 

“Harry,” she says. “You weren’t permitted to bring guests.”

He looks frustrated. “They’re worried you might kill me. I can’t say I blame them.”

“Oh, please.” She shakes her head. “There will be no murder involved, unless we decide that your pack can’t stay here and you refuse to leave.”

_She sounds like Zayn,_ Louis thinks. It’s amusing and then it’s not, because Harry starts to follow her toward the back room and Louis isn’t ready to just sit and wait here while Harry deals with self-righteous people. He grabs Harry’s wrist, and Harry turns to him. 

“Don’t,” Harry pleads. He looks so tired. “I just want to get this over and done with, Lou. I’m so sick of all this.” He tries to smile, and it falls flat. “I’ll be safe. I’ll be back. Promise.”

It should be Ben going in there. It should. Or maybe it shouldn’t, because Ben lost that position and hasn’t even shown any sign of missing it. Harry wanted this, and Louis still doesn’t know why, and he finds new ways to hate it every day.

“Okay,” Louis says anyway. “No more black eyes, though, yeah?”

Harry snorts. “I’ll try my best.”

Louis lets go of his hand, then, and watches him go. 

-

“Harry sounds pissed.”

“They’re letting him have five minutes to make them ‘understand what good we can do for the community.’”

“Mm. . . yeah, they’re awfully caught up on the whole murder thing.”

“They’re negotiating the terms for our stay now. Sounds like he might like you two more than he lets on.”

That last update from Zayn is directed at Gigi and Mika, who are sitting at the table closest to the door. He’s been giving them a play-by-play of the conversation the council and Harry are having next door, since the room had been protected with a spell to keep eavesdroppers like themselves away. Zayn did something to find the weakest spot in the spell, did his own magic, and he’s had his ear pressed against the wall since. Louis still doesn’t know if he can actually hear them, or if he’s just talking out of his ass. 

According to Zayn, the vampires are hung up on the werewolf part, the humans are hung up on the murder part, the werewolves are hung up on the Zayn and Louis part, and the witches don’t really care either way, or just aren’t showing their hand yet. Before Zayn said that the werewolves called them all traitors for aligning with a witch and that Harry was a shame to their species, he had flinched and didn’t answer Liam’s question on what was happening right away. 

After Zayn got them up to speed, he pressed his ear back up to the wall and said, “Yeah, he’s still yelling. He’s saying that the werewolves who weren’t cursed and let the rest of you alone to deal with it are the real traitors, and that Louis has done more for you all then your own species has, and -- oh, now he said that he’ll kill the next person who speaks your name. Lovely.”

“He has threatened to murder at least five people in the last month,” Gemma said with a disappointed sigh. And yeah, that might be true, but Louis knows that it’s all talk, so it doesn’t really bother him. If Harry actually did harm someone undeserving of it, he’d never forgive himself for it.

“He wouldn’t ever actually do it, though,” Ben said. 

Zayn grinned and added, “Yeah, well, I think he’s just learned from me that a good threat keeps people motivated to listen.”

It’s quiet again for at least a few minutes, and before Zayn can forewarn them, the door opens. They all stand, and Harry’s there in the doorway, arms crossed and irritated. Nobody follows him, and once he shuts the door, he crosses the room to stand next to Louis. The way Harry leans into him doesn’t feel conscious, and Louis leans right back into him. 

“We need to talk,” he says, followed by a deep sigh. “They have demands. Decently fair ones, as far as I’m concerned. But we need to make a decision together. And just know that those werewolves on that council will not be voting in our favor unless we cut ties with Louis and Zayn, which we aren’t going to do, so we’re already down four votes.”

The witches want Louis to join a coven that practices dark magic, which. . . isn’t as easy as it sounds. When Harry lists out the first demand, everyone nods along with it like that’s acceptable, like there aren’t countless witches who lose their minds while dealing with dark magic. He could handle it, probably, but still. He doesn’t want them under the impression that it’s some fucking book club that he’d be joining. 

Zayn says it before Louis has to. “The spell that Ava cast against you was one born from dark magic. And it’s, like -- stupidly dangerous. Even I don’t dabble in it unless I have to.”

Harry turns to him with a frown. “They didn’t mention that. That’s -- so you could, like -- you could die from doing it?”

“Yeah, but I’m more worried about that bit where I could lose my mind.” He sighs and glances away from Harry towards everybody else, because he doesn’t know why he’s letting himself pretend he won’t take that risk. “I probably wouldn’t, though. Like. If I was careful with it, and kept my head on straight. It’s fine, it’s -- yeah. It’s fine. I’ll do that.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt for this, Louis.”

“It’s fine,” Louis repeats, firmer this time. It is. He’ll be working within a coven, not by himself, which makes him more likely to stay sane while practicing it. “Seriously. Next demand.”

“Lou -- ”

“Babe,” he interrupts, turning to him. Harry looks just as upset as he sounded, all wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows and bitten lips. “I can take care of myself.”

Hesitantly, Harry goes on to explain that the humans want the pack to keep Zayn well-behaved. No murders, no theft, no kidnapping -- nothing. “Unless the vampires want you to.”

Zayn laughs. “What do you exactly mean by that, hmm?”

“The vampires want you -- um. They’re interested in your services, I guess.” Harry looks unhappy about this, but it honestly sounds like the most realistic option. Zayn clearly harbors a lot of rage, and he gets that rage out through less than favorable ways. Nobody could actually expect him to suddenly become a saint, so if he still has a way to release his anger that pleases the people who get to decide if they stay here or not, well -- Louis could live with looking the other way on that. 

“Cheers, then,” Zayn says with a grin, like there’s no higher compliment he could’ve been given than to hear that his _services_ of murder and chaos are sought after by the vampires. 

Harry doesn’t start back up again, so Louis assumes that’s it. The terms don’t seem to be anything extreme, which is beyond surprising. Is it, though? Not really. This pack staying here is no skin off of anybody’s back. The council just wants to have the upper hand, and to make sure they’re gaining beneficial resources. This is all a game to them. Louis’ just relieved to hear that staying here doesn’t seem like an impossible task, and that the pack will finally know peace again. 

And then Harry takes a deep breath next to him and says, “And they want us to give up our full moons,” which immediately strikes through Louis’ relief. Everyone else’s, too; they all look angry and confused and hurt, because that’s -- inhumane, almost, to deny werewolves their once-a-month chance to be _wolves_.

“What?” Ben asks, voice cold. 

Harry nods shortly. “We can’t -- um. We’ll each have to go through this, like, spell, I guess, that will take away our ability to transition on the full moon. It’s not permanent, we can get it reversed if we want to move out of the city, and they’ll permit us the opportunity to change only twice a year, in January and in June, and only if we leave the city to do it.” He licks his lips nervously, and his eyes dart every which way across the room, trying to get a feel for everyone’s reactions. “It’s not ideal. It -- it really fucking sucks, actually, and I know that. But I have to give them an answer in five minutes, and I need you to remind yourselves of the reasons that you wanted to come back here before you give me your decision.”

When Harry is finished, Louis expects the usual: too many opinions at once to handle, people talking over each other, arguing and accusations. None of that comes, though. The only thing that comes is deafening silence attached to stunned individuals who are in the midst of coming to terms with a part of their identity being stolen. 

Suddenly Louis joining a black-magic cult doesn’t sound too bad. 

“Guys,” Harry tries, and he sounds desperate. “If you don’t want to be in London bad enough to lose our full moons, that’s okay. That’s -- I’d rather leave the city than do that, but that’s just me. I’ll listen to what you all want, but in order for me to do that, you have to talk to me.”

Gemma is the first to voice her opinion. As soon as she speaks, Harry’s shoulders relax with the knowledge that he won’t have to make the decision by himself. “Can you renegotiate?” she asks. “Ask for four instead of two?”

“I already tried. They didn’t want to give us any, so I thought -- I thought we could make two full moons work, and it’s all I could get from them, anyway.”

Gemma shakes her head and leans against the nearest table. There’s no way five minutes is enough for a decision like this to be made, not when nobody even knows what to say or where to start. 

“What’s even the problem with us changing?” Bella asks, looking furious. She’s next to Gracie, who stares down at the table in charged silence. 

Harry takes a deep breath. This is hard on him, too, and Louis wants to reach over and comfort him physically, but he’s not sure Harry would want that right now. Not when he needs to look strong for everyone else. “Ava thought making us into wolves all of the time would make us turn darker. Wilder. And it did. So, the council has flipped her way of thinking and decided that the only way to keep us tame is for us to stay human most of the year.”

“We’re more likely to be aggressive if we don’t have that outlet,” Scott argues, and Harry is quick to nod. 

“I know. I know. I tried to tell them that, but they wouldn’t listen. They seem to have us all figured out.”

“Fuck this,” David snaps. “I’ll go back to live with Maggie and Niall before I agree to this.”

Panic flashes over Harry’s face. Another person who will be away from the bulk of the pack. That’s his greatest fear, and sixteen strangers are the ones to aid its reality. 

“Nick? Liam?” Harry asks in an attempt to get people to talk. “Come on, someone give me something to work with here.”

Nick shrugs, though it’s awkward and strained. “I’d rather lose out on full moons than to lose out on those fruity margaritas down the street. I’ll stay.”

Liam glances at his sisters, and then at Harry. He looks just as stressed as Harry does. “I’ll go where you go,” Liam says to Harry, and Harry lets out this little shocked sigh that sounds equal parts overwhelmed and grateful. Liam’s -- good. Liam is the exact type of pack member than an alpha would want. He’s loyal and a sucker for tradition, and he wouldn’t feel peace if he were to go against norms. Even if Harry claimed that Louis was his second, it’s just not true. Liam is, and he acts like it.

Gemma nods with a grim expression on her face. “Yeah. Same. But I’d like to stay with Mum here in London, even if I don’t like what they want from us.”

Harry’s eyes shift to Ruth and Nicola, who were flooded with disappointment as soon as Liam pledged his loyalty to Harry. “We go where Liam goes,” Ruth says without looking at Harry. “Obviously. He’s our brother, even if he is stupid.”

“Okay,” Harry says, and he sounds the slightest bit more confident in the situation. “Gigi and the rest of you -- I’d rather you stay with me, too, so I can keep an eye on you. Whether that be in London or back at the cabin or somewhere else, I want you five close to me.”

“I’m blushing, honestly,” Zayn says with a snort, and besides a short eye roll, Harry ignores it. 

“We want to stay in London,” Bella says, aggression laced in every word. She takes a deep breath and says, “But, like. Sure. If you decide that you want to move the pack, we’d follow. I guess.”

Gracie snorts disapprovingly, while Gigi looks appreciative of the sentiment. So does Harry.

“So, who absolutely refuses to agree to this shit compromise besides David?”

Harry addresses the question to everyone, though his eyes are dead-set on Ben. His word could very well be Harry’s, no matter what. Harry is still out of his depth here, so the words of his past alpha will help him find his feet.

Ben doesn’t answer right away. When he does, it’s after a heavy sigh. “I didn’t want to come back to London that badly until I was actually here again. I want to stay. I want you to let us stay. And honestly, I don’t think we’ll miss those full moons as much as we think we will. Not anytime soon, anyway. Not when we’ve spent the last three years hating being a wolf.”

There’s no possible way Harry could ever agree with that last part, Louis thinks, up until the moment he realizes that Harry could actually be feeling the same exact way. He went through traumatic experience after traumatic experience while in a body that he wasn’t used to, in a body that was always just supposed to be temporary; maybe Harry would be okay to never go back to being a wolf. Louis doesn’t know, he’ll have to pick his brain about it later. 

“Okay,” Harry says with a strong nod. “London it is. I’ll go talk to them, then.” He turns to Louis and grabs his hand. His hands aren’t sweaty or shaky like Louis thought they would be. “And I’d very much like it if you came with me, because they need to realize now that you aren’t something that’s negotiable to me.”

It’s such a strong statement that has so many different layers that Louis can’t possibly sift through right now. So, he blinks back the tears and pushes down the warm, fuzzy feeling in his belly and nods. “Yeah,” he says. “Okay.”

The council is hardly intimidating at all, actually. There are twelve people -- all four wolves gone from the table -- who stare back at him with interested expressions, and there’s a box of half-eaten pizza in the middle like the pack’s lives are just something fun to discuss over a meal. 

“So?” a witch asks, a slimy grin twisting her lips. “Do we have a deal, then?”

With his chin held high, Harry says, “Yeah. I believe we do.”

-

-

Some days, it’s almost like they never left London. 

It takes them weeks to get used to the air pollution and the noise and the ever-present yet subtle anxiety that a big city like this brings someone. Once that settles down, though, once they’re walking down the street together hand-in-hand and without flinching whenever a car honks, it feels normal. Waking up in a big, soft bed with a fresh duvet and to the noise of Harry’s soft snores being breathed into his neck feels normal. It’s normal to see his mum and his siblings whenever he pleases, to call them without a worry of bad reception, to pick leftovers up from Anne’s house. It’s becoming normal for the night to begin and end, the moon to rise and fall, and Harry to stay the same species, unaffected by it as he sleeps through it. 

After about a month and a half, it even starts to feel normal for it just to be Harry and him again, for there to be no pack behind their every movement. 

Once the negotiation with the council was finished and the spell preventing the wolves to change every month was complete, nobody except for Harry saw a reason to stay together. The initial plan was to stay together for a month, and then to see if it was safe to separate, but there were never really any signs of danger to fear. Ben wanted to do this, Nick wanted to drink here, Gemma wanted to move there -- there were so many reasons for everyone to want to leave one another’s side, and every single one of them rests heavily on Harry’s chest. They were only together in Anne’s house for a week. Nick was the first to leave, and after him, everyone started pouring out the door after him. 

Adjusting to a life without the pack so close has become normal for Louis, not to Harry. And it probably never will be. It leaves him feeling vulnerable and alone at the best of times, and nauseous and betrayed at the worst. 

Life has to go on, though. They have to find their new normal, both of them. 

When it becomes clear that their return home isn’t as much of a scandal as they had predicted, the only signs of disapproval being from random people on the street who side-eye them that Louis can sense are other werewolves, Harry and Louis re-enter society fully. Louis gets a full-time job serving at a diner just down the street from their apartment building (which nobody besides Liam and Mika have also moved into, even though they all promised to stay open to the idea for Harry) while Harry, restless at home all day, finds a job at Beth’s clinic. He’s just answering phones, filing paperwork, and talking to customers all day, but someone has to do it and it keeps Harry sane. 

Grocery shopping for a week instead of a month becomes warmly welcomed. Having neighbors becomes a fond annoyance. Watching Harry carve away at pieces of wood in his spare time is peaceful. Having Liam and Mika come over for dinner every weekend is comforting. 

Some days, it’s all they need. And some days, it’s almost like a life here will be impossible to ever get fully used to. 

If Louis’ being completely honest, and he’d never say it out loud, a day’s success depends solely on what mood Harry wakes up in. It’s not his fault, how quiet and upset he can get, it’s really not. Louis would never blame him for it or think there was no reason for it. It’s still gut-wrenching when Louis wakes up to see Harry already wide awake, staring off into space with glazed over eyes, or to shakes of Harry’s nightmares, or to just a plain bad mood. All Louis wants for him is to be able to wake up with peace in his heart every day. 

Harry tries to keep his head on straight, his mind distracted, his emotions in check, but it’s. . . Some days are easier than others. Louis managed to push through the shock of the city and change in only a few weeks, but for Harry, it’s so much more than that. Harry’s learning how to be human everyday again and forgiving himself over and over again for that awful night. He’s waking up and remembering and going to bed as he tries to forget. Some nights are really, _really_ good between them, and others aren’t. Others, Harry feels sick from the loss and rejection of his pack. Because that’s how it feels to him, like he was rejected by them. Not even his own sister wanted to stay by his side, and most days Harry can understand that everybody wants a breather from everyone, not just him. Most days. 

The full moons are the worst, though. And the nights leading up to them, and the nights that follow. Full moons have always, curse or not, been something to look forward to, and now it’s just not. There’s been two spent in London, and despite Harry’s efforts, only half the pack came over for the first one, and even less than that for the second. It’s just -- people are busy and still in need of space, and there’s no point to get together if they can’t spend it properly. That’s what they said, anyway. 

On top of the emotional loss, there is a physical pain, too. Harry says it's like his wolf tries to push itself to the top and fails against the weight of the spell. It doesn’t hurt, he says, it’s more so that it leaves a cold emptiness throughout his body, along with tremors of anxiety as his wolf panics. 

Every day, Louis hopes and prays that the full moon in January, when they’ll finally be allowed to turn, that Harry gets his picture-perfect night. A night spent at the cabin with Maggie, Niall, Rue and the rest of the pack -- every single one of them. It’s only a few more months away, and if it’s not exactly how Harry wants it to go, Louis fears there will be a lot more harder days in its wake. 

-

The first morning it snows, Louis wakes to find Harry in front of the window as he watches it fall. For a second, Louis tries to watch him to see if he can find any traces of happiness or sadness, but it’s useless because Harry heard the change in his breath and glances at him. 

“It’s snowing,” Harry says. His face is blank, until he cracks a smile that reaches his eyes. After he glances back out the window, he says, “You know, I thought the snow was prettier at the cabin, with the lake and everything, but I think I still like it better here.”

Louis will forever take every one of Harry’s bad days without any complaints, although he can’t deny it’s always a relief to see him on his good ones. “Yeah?” Louis asks as he sits up. “You still like it enough to wipe my car off before work?”

“I’m not good with the cold anymore,” Harry reminds with a small pout. He really isn’t; none of them are, from what Louis has picked up on from conversations. They get cold easier, and they sleep lighter, and nearly everyone Harry has spoken to has admitted to indulging in too much food. They’re all adjusting the same way, more or less. “But I will do that for you. Promise.” He pushes away from the window to crawl back into bed, and Louis opens his arms so he can tuck himself against him. 

“My sisters’ are probably loving this,” he says, and he runs his fingers across Harry’s arm. Even now, in the warmth of their apartment, Harry’s skin feels a little cold to the touch. 

“Yeah. I’m going to call Maggie, I think. Before work. To see if it’s snowing over there or not.”

Louis thinks back to all the pictures he’s been sent in the last two months of Rue. She’s growing, but she’s still small. Not even a year old yet. He wonders if she’d care about the snow at all, or if Niall and Maggie will have to wait for next year. 

“I bet she’d like that, Haz. Tell her I said hi.”

Harry nods against him, a small sigh puffing from his lips that sounds the slightest bit disappointed. There are constant reminders all around them that enunciate the distance between everyone. 

“You know,” Harry starts, his hand sliding under Louis’ shirt to rest on his bare stomach. The touch makes Louis shiver. “I’m starting to get used to it here. Like, I’m not constantly wondering why we decided to come back.”

“That’s good, H, seriously. I’m glad.”

“I just hope everyone else feels the same way.” He sounds sad now, like the thought of any one of them being upset physically hurts him. Maybe it does. 

“You talk to them,” Louis reminds. “In our little group chat that never seems to stop. Everyone seems okay to me. And you call a lot of them, too. Everyone’s fine, love.”

“Ruth ignored my call and then never called me back yesterday. I don’t know if _she’s_ okay.”

“Ruth has Liam to look after her,” he says eventually, after one too many rude responses fly through his brain. _He’s_ trying to be nicer to them, because _they’re_ trying to be nicer to Harry. That’s what it seems like, anyway. Ruth and Nicola had stopped by Liam’s to drop something off a few weekends ago, and they came up to visit Harry, too. It was brief and very likely orchestrated by Liam, but Harry was incredibly appreciative of the gesture and thanked them multiple times. 

“But I want to be the one to look after all of them,” Harry grumbles, not that far off from how a child would sound. He shifts so he’s on his stomach, and he pouts at Louis. “I like to take care of everyone.”

Louis snorts at how earnest he sounds. As if Louis didn’t know that. He knew that long before any of this even happened. “I know you do. But you have to make sure that you take care of yourself, too.” He sets his hand on Harry’s cheek, and Harry grabs it. 

“I know.” He kisses the back of his hand. “I do, promise.” The green in his eyes is equal parts tamed and unpredictable, and Louis stares into them until they shut, until Harry’s pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I like taking care of you, too,” he says quietly, his finger reaching up to tilt Louis’ head back by his chin. 

“Awfully cheesy this morning, aren’t you?” Louis asks, not breathless just yet. He can’t let Harry know how much he craves this intimacy, because if Harry becomes too familiar with the look in his eye, he’d realize that Louis is up for it practically ninety-nine percent of the day, and he’d feel much too smug about that. 

“It’s the snow,” Harry whispers, like it’s a secret. And like a kiss is the only way to seal off that secret, both of them press forward at the same time to do just that. 

-

Harry’s lost his grasp on the wolf-side of himself, so it’s probably not right that Louis hasn’t felt more in control of his magic until now. 

And sure, Zayn’s the one who continues to send him spellbooks and rituals and the weirdest ingredients ever in boxes that Harry keeps opening thinking it’s his latest Internet-buy (and Louis has to promise him every single time that he didn’t accidentally unleash some hex on himself or something). But no, Louis doesn’t credit the way he has improved in his witchcraft to him, because Zayn would like that far too much. 

The problem is, as a witch with morals, he can’t just go around practicing magic whenever he pleases on whoever he wants. (He’s trying to hang onto those, morals, because Harry had arranged a deal for him in which Louis wouldn’t have to partake in that dark magic coven until after the first true full moon in January, after they’re sure they weren’t screwed over with the ritual to take away their natural shifts. Louis tries not to let it hang over his head too much.) So, he practices whenever he can without it affecting anybody else’s lives too much. 

This morning, he drives down an empty street. It’s just him and another car driving the opposite direction, so when the stop light stops him, he takes a deep breath, steadies his mind, and makes the stop light turn green on his own accord. It does, and even though he’s done this at least once a week since he learned the spell, it still sends a chill of adrenaline down his spine. When he gets to work and the coffee pot is broken, he simply fixes it. An hour later when one of his co-workers won’t shut up, he makes their phone ring and they get distracted. 

Zayn would probably roll his eyes at Louis’ use of all this new information -- “I wouldn’t have given you all this to you to do boring things with it,” he’d probably say -- but Louis has to learn now how to control his impulses and not take magical liberties just because he can. 

Still, when he gets back home to the apartment building and a man is blocking his mailbox, Louis may or may not mutter an incantation under his breath which makes the wall the man is leaned against suddenly get a faint shock of static that makes him jolt away from it, thus freeing Louis’ mailbox. 

Maybe it’s okay if he’s irresponsible with this stuff. This way, he can have fun before he gets magic into his hands that he has to be cautious with. 

When Louis unlocks the door, he immediately hears a flood of voices that he didn’t expect at all. And to make it even more unpredictable, next to Mika and Liam are Zayn and Gigi. 

This is the third unwanted visit Zayn has made since they’ve settled in here, and goddammit, Louis hates to say it, but there is some truth to the fact that Zayn is actually an easy person to be around when he isn’t terrorizing them. 

“Hii,” Harry says, happier than Louis’ heard him in a while. It’s not because of the snow that clings to Louis’ boots; it’s because there are four members of his pack sat next to him, two of which he hasn’t seen in a minute. 

“Hi. Gracie and Bella couldn’t make it?” he asks with a smile, because he doesn’t have anything against them, not really. He’d have to know them better before he made a decision like that. The only people Gracie and Bella have seemed to bond with at all -- or even try to -- is Nick, because apparently they’re the only two people in this world who like to drink as much as he does. The stories Louis had heard from that are ones he’ll be sure to use against Nick later. 

“They probably could’ve, but they would’ve been a drag,” Mika replies. He’s a nice guy, it seems like. He’s eager to please Harry in a way that sort of makes Louis uncomfortable, while Harry adores it. It’s the same thing with Gigi; both of them want to show Harry that he has their loyalty, and during that process, Mika and Harry have just become normal friends. Gigi’s not been around enough for that yet, but that probably has to do with the fact that for someone who fought to get to London so hard, she sure does love to follow her boyfriend to the States every time he gets bored -- which is just about every week. They love each other, though, and since Louis would do the same for Harry, he doesn’t question it. 

“Dinner’s in the oven,” Harry says as he checks his watch. And then, “You could probably pull it out now, if you want.”

Louis nods. “Yeah, I’m starving.” He pulls off his shoes and hangs his coat before heading to the kitchen. He pulls out the casserole from the oven and calls out to the rest of them that it’s done once he checks it. Harry gets to the kitchen first, and he wraps his arms around Louis’ waist from behind and presses a kiss to his check. They’re not used to this yet, sharing this space with others. It feels a little odd. Not in a bad way, though. 

There’s a sigh behind them that couldn’t belong to anyone other than Zayn. “If you expect me to eat this shit casserole, you need to avoid making me want to throw up before I’ve even tried it.”

“I’m a good cook,” Harry says as he pulls away from Louis to look at Zayn. 

Zayn snorts. “You’ve not cooked a proper meal in almost three years. Gigi thinks she’s a good cook, too, but I swear I would’ve died from the ribs she made last week if I was human.”

“You are completely annoying,” Harry says, and he sounds a little bit astonished, like he can’t understand how one person could be so irritating. Louis’ becoming used to it quicker than Harry. 

“Yeah, I am.” Zayn smiles as he pulls out a chair at the table for Gigi and then one for himself. “Let’s eat, then, shall we?”

-

The drive to the cabin has never felt this long before, but it’s made bearable by the people he spends the five painstaking hours with. 

Harry’s in the front seat, one steady hand on the steering wheel with the other on Louis’ knee, or the radio, or in the bag of chips being passed around. He drives everywhere he can these days, and this is no exception. There’s something about the way he’s very much in control that Louis thinks Harry likes. 

Gemma’s in the back to the left, somehow having something to complain about for every single song that comes on. She’ll never, ever stop teasing Harry incessantly, and Harry will never stop just putting up with it. Next to her in the middle is Greg, who has been staying at their flat for the last few days while he was back from Ireland. Since he’s been living in Ireland, he’s been driving over to the cabin himself every month for his regular shifts with his mum so Rue isn’t by herself, but he decided to join the pack for the long car ride this time. In his absence, though, he’s missed out on why it’s not weird for Gigi to be the one sat next to him anymore. 

In short, Harry and Gigi have somehow become best friends. 

It started after that dinner with Gigi, Mika and Zayn at their flat, and it’s slowly blossomed into something quite beautiful, honestly. If you take two lonely people, both feeling insecure in their packs -- you’ll get a bond pretty quickly. Neither of them felt like they were wanted in the pack, and they found that companionship in each other. Gigi and Zayn are suddenly in London all the time again, and she’s sprawled out on their couch with Harry beaming at her every other day just about. Not only did she affirm that Harry isn’t this scary, hated person, she also filled that hole of loneliness in his heart where Louis couldn’t quite reach on his own. 

It’s not who Louis was expecting Harry to bond so closely with -- he had assumed it’d be Mika -- but he’s not mad at it. At all. He’s actually thankful for it, in more ways than one, because Harry has someone like him who’s not only insecure in the pack and lonely, but coping with the same chokehold of their wolf. He has someone to turn to that understands exactly what he is feeling, and she’s the only wolf that Harry feels comfortable turning to with that sort of stuff. He feels pushed away by everyone -- some of it’s all in his head, some of it’s painfully real -- but not by Gigi. Gigi turns to him, too, she pulls him closer as well. They care about each other as much as Liam and Harry do, their bond going just as deep, but their bond isn’t born out of guilt and trauma. 

And having one more person on Harry’s side comforts his alpha-side, because Louis knows he’s weighing out his odds against a potential attack. He has to, and has had to ever since he attacked Liam first. Liam, Gemma and Louis would undoubtedly fall in favor of Harry, and now he has Gigi, too, and since he has Gigi, he has Zayn and possibly the other three. He hasn’t admitted to thinking about this -- Harry does his very best to remain overly gentle nowadays -- and Louis doesn’t need an admittance to know that he has. 

“So, Greg,” Harry starts halfway through the drive. He’s remained relaxed this entire time, the exact opposite of how they left the cabin only a few months ago. Spending every day with Harry makes it difficult to properly understand how he’s doing, but having that comparison to draw from comforts Louis endlessly. “Is it any different now that the curse is broken? Like, the change?”

Greg shakes his head from the backseat. “No. Not really. Feels less restrictive, I guess, but that’s more to do with the mental aspect. It feels the same, physically.”

“That’s good,” Harry says with a thoughtful expression. 

Gigi agrees. “Yeah. I hope it doesn’t hurt worse, since we’ve not done it in a while.”

“Jesus Christ, this song is, like, ages long,” is what Gemma adds to the conversation. She pokes her head into the front seat and reaches over to change the channel, and Harry doesn’t take his eyes off the road as he pushes her head back. She slaps at his hands, and he sighs and lets her fuck around with the radio until she ends up back on the same station she started with. 

When she slumps back into her spot in defeat, Harry looks at her through the rear-view mirror. Instead of annoyance contorting his face, there’s fondness melting it. “I miss you, you know. Somehow.”

She kicks at his chair. “I see you once a week and it’s still too much.”

Harry grins and turns the radio up, drowning out her sigh. 

-

Despite leaving first, their car is the last to pull up to the cabin. Gemma insisted they stop for food, and Harry was ignoring her until it was backed by Louis. He pulled off on the next exit. And they didn’t mean to sit there at a diner for an hour straight, but they did anyway, and that’s okay because Harry looked like he was glowing and they still make it to the cabin around three in the afternoon. They wanted to spend the day together properly. 

All that confidence that Harry had on the way here, all that shine -- it immediately dissipates. Louis can see it, and the others can sense it. 

“Nobody’s going to start shit tonight, Harry,” Gigi says from behind him. “Not when it’s our first time to be wolves in a while. They have every other night to pick a fight.”

Harry doesn’t respond to her. Instead, he gets out of the car and doesn’t wait for the others to walk with him up to the cabin. Louis doesn’t mind it; Harry has something to prove, to himself and to them, and he’s desperate to see everyone together again. To see their faces and hear their voices and not detect any malice towards him. 

Plus, he wants to see that baby. 

Louis grabs their shared overnight bag and makes the familiar walk up to the cabin. He wants to take it all in, but he’ll have time for that later. Right now, he’s focused on the pack. _His_ pack. Somewhere along the way, he’s felt disconnected from them all in a way he hasn’t in a while. 

Sure enough, Harry has Rue on his hip when Louis walks in the door. He’s staring down at her with bright, happy eyes and a dopey smile, and she stares back at him with interest. She’s not even a year old, and somehow, she manages to look like she’s grown miles since they last saw her. 

“She’s grown a lot,” Louis says with a delighted sigh. He steps forward and settles in next to Harry’s side, momentarily ignoring everyone else. She turns to look at him now, and her interest turns into slight discomfort. When she plops down against Harry’s chest, her tiny little first twisted up in his shirt, she looks content again. Maybe -- just maybe -- she recognizes Harry has the one who watched out for her mother and her when Maggie was pregnant. Or maybe she can sense that Harry is her alpha, someone she can trust; even though she’s a baby and has years until her wolf starts coming out, Harry has told him that it starts from birth, their intuition. Even though they don’t even really understand it themselves just yet. 

“Nah,” Harry whispers. “Still a little pup, aren’t you?” He kisses Rue’s hand and she babbles back, and Harry looks like he could melt. 

“I agree with Louis,” Maggie says. “She’s getting too big.”

And out of everyone, Maggie and Niall are the people he’s missed most, so he steps away from Harry to give them each a tight hug. As Niall’s patting his back and saying how he doesn’t know how Louis lasted so long in the cabin by himself, Louis gets distracted by a voice behind him. They all do. 

Louis turns in time to see Harry extend his arm out towards Ben, who accepts the invitation and gives Harry a brief but tight hug. Rue’s hand reaches out to tug on Ben’s sleeve. All eyes are on them, because even though Ben and Harry are on good terms and have been for a while, it’s still a significant moment for the pack. 

“I do miss you sometimes, kid,” Ben says with an eye roll. “It’s nice to see someone with a big head that doesn’t belong to my own reflection.”

Harry snorts at him, and his eyes are soft. “You could call more,” he says, and insecurity bleeds through his tone in a way it rarely does with Ben. “I hound all of you by calling you weekly, and none of you seem in a rush to call me.”

“Because you hound us and call us weekly,” David says with a laugh. In the end, he decided to change his mind and stay with them all in London. Harry was ecstatic, up until he realized that David wouldn’t be making too many visits, either. “Our lives aren’t interesting, mate. Not much to catch you up on.”

“That’s not true,” Nick argues. “My life is very interesting.”

Bella and Gracie exchange a look with each other, and Louis makes a mental note to spend at least one night with the three of them before he enters that coven. Which is soon, very soon, and he’s absolutely not thinking about it. Realistically, he knows that he’ll be fine. The whole _poin_ t of a coven is for people to be there to make sure that you’re okay. And Harry and the rest of the pack -- they’ll be there, too, to keep him grounded. It’ll be fine. Hell, he’ll even learn a thing or two that’ll come in handy one day. 

“I don’t think I get those calls,” Zayn says as he steps out of the kitchen. He has an apron on that reads _kiss the chef_. “Are you sure you have the right number, Harry?”

“You drop by the apartment quite enough, thanks,” Louis says with a snort, and Harry flashes a grin at him. It fades after a minute or so as he glances back at everyone. When Louis follows his gaze, his ends land on Ruth, Nicola and Liam. 

“Did you three have a nice drive here?” Harry asks slowly. The tone of the atmosphere shifts, and Rue fusses in Harry’s arm. He quiets her with a hand pressed to the back of her head. 

Liam nods, while Ruth and Nicola stay silent. “It was fine, yeah. I drove for a little while, and then Nic -- ”

“Look,” Nicola interrupts firmly. Liam quiets, and Harry waits. “Ruth and I won’t ever forgive you for what you did to Liam. We might never learn to trust you again, either. And sure, maybe it’s fair to say that we won’t let it go, but that’s because Liam let it go pretty fucking quickly and someone has to put their foot down with you. Letting people in your position get away with shit like this is how, like, dictators come about.”

Zayn squints at her. “I think that’s a flawed analogy, love.”

“And I’ll never understand why you attacked our brother but have left that dipshit untouched,” Ruth says, flailing a hand towards Zayn, who takes it as a compliment. “But we don’t want this to be a _thing_ every time we see you. We don’t want you to feel like you have to, like, earn our respect again, because while we might not be able to completely respect you, we respect your position. We respect what you mean to this pack. I don’t think we have to be best friends for that to remain true.”

And yet Harry looks inwardly crushed away. It’s okay; he’ll learn to accept that. He has to. He can’t be everyone’s friend and leader at the same time. Ben certainly wasn’t. 

“And you have to get Liam to stop guilt-tripping us every time we see him,” Nicola adds with a glare pointed at the side of Liam’s head. “We’re allowed to be angry.”

“Yes, you are,” Harry says immediately. “I know that. And I don’t want anybody to make you feel like you can’t be, even if I maybe have in the past. I want. . . I want us all to be a family, I really do.”

“All families have tension,” Louis says when he notices that Harry looks a bit at a loss for words. “All families have people who make it clear they’d rarely be anywhere else than here.” He motions to Bella and Gracie; Bella shrugs while Gracie rolls her eyes. “I think we all know that, but. I just think it’d be a shame if we became one of those families who have people who we don’t get to see too often.”

“We won’t,” Liam says. 

Nick nods. “Of course we won’t.”

“We spent three years cursed in a forest together,” Ben reminds everyone. “I don’t think anybody can beat how close we really are.”

Harry’s face stays schooled, but they all see the breath of relief that escapes him. 

-

“So, it’s just me and you, then.” 

Louis scoffs at Zayn without looking away from Rue. She has the most beautiful blue eyes and the tiniest nose. Even though it’s past her bedtime, she’s content in Louis’ lap with the red block she has in her hand. Any of Louis' sisters would have gotten bored with it in a second and threw a fit, but she’s in her own little world with her little block and her little hands. Louis wants to be in that world with her, not in a world where Zayn is pulling up a chair to sit next to him. 

Louis’ pretty sure picking on Zayn, even in his thoughts, will never stop being something that he finds amusing. 

“Don’t count out Rue,” Louis replies eventually. Zayn reaches over to pull her hat down over her eyes with a soft smile. She startles and makes a noise, although she stays calm after Louis quickly pulls her hat back up. She looks around for a second before the block consumes her attention again.

“You’re an ass,” Louis tells him with a bitten-back smile. Zayn _is_ an ass, just. . . whatever. Louis doesn’t need to know the words to describe how annoyingly charming Zayn is. 

Suddenly, there is one long howl, followed by a dozen more. Zayn and Louis exchange a grin, while Rue stares into the darkness with wide eyes, her curious face lit up by the fairy lights and the porch light. 

Harry’s the first to emerge from the woods as a pair of bright green eyes. He’s running out of the woods, and at first Louis thinks he’s just having fun, until Gemma comes out and tackles him and Louis realizes that he’s being chased. Harry could so easily overpower her, is the thing. Louis has no idea how he keeps such patience with her, especially when she’s crashing all her weight into him, causing them both to tumble. 

It takes Louis a second to recognize the wolf who appears after Niall and Maggie, but he puts two and two together once he notices Zayn’s grin. Gigi doesn’t look as soft as she does as a human, not as meek. She stands tall and proud, and she’s so focused on Zayn on the porch that she doesn’t see Harry coming. He pounces on her like Gemma pounced on him, and Zayn makes a noise. 

“That was _mean,_ ” Zayn says with a surprised laugh. “That was -- he had too much fun doing that.”

Louis is so happy that it almost hurts. For the first time in months, their pack is not only all together again, but they are experiencing their first full moon as free wolves. _This_ is what freedom feels like for them, and they’re all clearly having the time of their lives basking in it. Louis initially thought that Harry would be a little reserved, but seeing how loose and relieved they all look -- Harry couldn’t act reserved even if he tried. Even Ben, who’s naturally calm, is playing around with Gracie. And if Gracie can’t keep her guard up because of how great she feels, nobody can. 

Harry’s the first one to tread into the water, and like they do, the others follow. Except for Ben, Gracie, and Greg, who stay messing about where it’s dry. The rest of them wade into the water like they’re made for it, and well -- they are. Even though Louis doesn’t quite like them being in that cold water in the middle of the night, he can fully recognize that he’s just being paranoid and that they’re probably having the time of their lives right now. And that energy is either contagious, or Louis and Zayn simply feel the same way because they’re part of this pack, too, even though it might be different for them. 

Rue stays occupied by her block. 

They mess around in the water for almost an hour before Harry walks out of the water, seemingly calmed down a bit now. Nobody follows him out -- Louis can’t make out their shapes well in the dark, but he can _hear_ that the others are still plenty enjoying themselves -- so Harry makes his way up to the porch. 

“Don’t,” Zayn warns, and Louis is confused, up until Harry shakes out the water from his fur in front of them. And Louis was right, that water _is_ cold, and Harry looks much too proud of himself right now. Zayn sighs, dramatically shaking out his hands. “I hate him.”

Louis wipes off Rue’s cheek, who doesn’t seem to care about anything going on around her. “He’s a bit of a bastard, I’ll give you that.”

Harry licks at Louis’ hand, and Louis pats the top of his wet head. He looks so different wet than he does dry, so much less intimidating and fluffy looking. Less soft, too. Only now does Rue look at Harry, seemingly interested. 

Carefully, Harry sniffs at her hand, probably trying to see if she’ll be scared of him or not. She’s not, it turns out. In fact, she reaches forward to pat Harry’s head like Louis was only second ago. Harry lifts his to lick her cheek, and she explodes with a giggle that gets Harry's tail wagging like mad. 

“You know,” Louis says, tearing his gaze from Harry and Rue. He glances at Zayn, who’s watching them with fond eyes. “You’re going to have to buy her first car. And, like. Fund her schooling and her wedding and whatever the hell else she wants. You owe her.” Louis sets a hand on top of her hat. “We _all_ do, but you especially.”

“Trust me,” Zayn says. “I know that.” He reaches over and pushes Harry’s head away to squish Rue’s cheeks. She giggles for him, too, until Harry nudges his hand away and goes back to letting Rue tug on his ears. 

The noise of someone shaking off catches Louis’ attention, and he looks up. It’s Gigi, who was polite enough to do it away from them. 

“I’m going to go walk with her for a bit,” Zayn says, standing up. He drags his hand down Harry’s back as he passes, because apparently not even Zayn Malik is powerless against how nice their fur feels. Louis watches as Gigi and Zayn head back into the woods together, and once they’re gone, his eyes shift to the moon. It’s the first night in a long, long time where he’s not only thankful for it, but relaxed by it, too. There’s no ticking clock tied to it this time. 

Harry licks Rue’s cheek again before he hops into the empty chair next to Louis. It’s probably not the most comfortable for him, but he looks as content as possible. He sets his chin on the arm of it, his soft green eyes staring at them, and Louis returns to petting him. 

Harry’s eyes don’t once leave Louis’. 

-

Once they’re let go by the moon, they all come inside. Some raid the kitchen, others raid the DVD selection, while the rest of them sit out in the living room. Even though they’re human again and will stay that way for months, the mood doesn’t damper, and neither does the noise. 

Popcorn is popped, _Mamma Mia_ is turned on, and they all squish together on or in front of the couch. The only ones who don’t join the overly-warm, slightly uncomfortable pile of limbs are Niall and Maggie, who cuddle up in the arm chair together. They put Rue to bed a little bit ago, and Zayn made it so she wouldn’t be bothered by all the noise. 

Louis’ curled up in Harry’s lap, and every time he feels Harry smile against his shoulder or squeeze Louis’ knee, every time he hears him laugh next to his ear and sing along, it comforts him endlessly. Going back to London tomorrow will be the first time it feels like they’re going back home, because now they know for sure they can call it that again. And the peace Harry found tonight can’t promise anyone that he’ll never have another bad day or rough night again, but it can always exist in his memories and comfort him there. With Louis’ hand in his, this peace in his head, and his pack in his heart, Harry won’t ever have to know such great pain ever again, and that in turn is what brings Louis his peace. 

For the first time, the curse truly feels over. 

-

The following morning, they all wake up with sore backs and cricks in their necks and sorrow in their veins. Some are better at hiding it than others, but everyone -- even Gracie and Bella -- seem to be hesitant about going back to London and away from the serenity of last night. They have to, though. They do. 

“We should still get together on the full moons,” Harry says, just before Liam and his sisters are about to leave. Everyone’s ready to go, they’re all just finding something else to keep them here. 

Everyone stares at him, and Harry shrugs, looking a little desperate. 

“I see Gigi, Gemma, Mika and Liam often, but the rest of you -- I miss you all, too. I want to feel like you have a place in my life. And I think -- I think dinner or a movie or drinks together once a month is something that we could all use.”

“It wouldn’t be the same,” Bella says, voice deflated. A few other people nod, and Harry shrugs again. 

“No, it won’t be,” he admits. “But that doesn’t mean it’ll be pointless, or not fun. And if you all don’t agree, I’m just going to make it mandatory, so.” He’s half-joking, half-not, and the weak smile he flashes at them all is probably what makes them all agree. They’ll do it for Harry, but they’ll keep it up for themselves. Louis just knows it. 

Harry nods once everyone agrees, looking proud of himself. 

Everyone sticks around for another ten minutes or so, and the Payne’s are the first to go, shortly followed by Scott, David, Ben and Nick. Gigi’s heading back home with Zayn, Bella and Gracie, and Greg’s going to stay here until he fucks off back to Ireland, so it’s just Harry, Louis and Gemma who get into the car after everyone’s left. They all got a bit teary-eyed when they said goodbye to Rue, especially Harry, who didn’t even try to hide it. The most vulnerable member of his pack is the one he’s the farthest away from; that can’t be a light weight on his mind. 

Harry lets out a long, heavy sigh as he starts the ignition, and Louis leans over to press a kiss to his cheek. It earns him a small smile and a proper kiss on the lips, and the expected complaint from Gemma doesn’t come. 

“Alright,” Harry says with another deep sigh as he sets his hands on the wheel. “Let’s hit the road, shall we?”

Louis nods and Gemma pokes her head from the back to turn on the radio. Nobody complains about the song or turns it up too loud. It’s a nice, quiet background noise that allows them all to think, to come down from the high of last night and to keep focused on the scenery around them as they pass by. Harry keeps his eyes steady on the road and a hand on Louis’ knee as he drives, and there’s undoubtedly a million thoughts going through his head right now, but they can wait. For once, they can wait. Because right now, they’re on their way back to London. 

They’re on their way back home. 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's the ending!! i really hoped you all liked it. this type of story is way different than what i normally do, so i'm so grateful for all the lovely comments.

**Author's Note:**

> are you liking it so far??? i hope so! leave a comment if you feel like it :D
> 
> tumblr: bravestylesao3  
> twitter: bravestylesao3  
> come talk to me!


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